


sugarcane, baby, baby

by rainbowsedge



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Breakup Sex, Choking, Cowgirl Position, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Frat Boy Harry Styles, M/M, Musician Louis Tomlinson, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Overstimulation, Plot with porn I think, Recreational Drug Use, University, Unsafe Sex, don't @ me about any of this this was purely self-indulgent, mediocre smut don't @ me, reddit, side Ziam, soldouthaz and falsegoodnight pls notice me senpais, switch undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26705983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowsedge/pseuds/rainbowsedge
Summary: don't b so serious, it's nothing personal. love biting his neck; just gotta get thru this last semester. don't talk abut forever w me, im still a little bitter over the last one.(yeah, so apparently posting every detail about your relationships on reddit isn't actually a good idea)
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 46
Kudos: 147





	sugarcane, baby, baby

**Author's Note:**

> Recreational drug and alcohol use, frat boys, self-indulgent explicit sex scenes, swearing like sailors who haven’t been on land in five years, musicians, boys who look like they smell good and actually do once they let you in close. Circa 2015 visuals with 2019 setting. 
> 
> Songs in this fic:  
> are you even real? by James Blake  
> do I wanna know? by arctic monkeys  
> novacane by frank ocean
> 
> not beta read, all mistakes and typos are my own

**_Ch1: I think I started somethin’, I got what I wanted_ **

r/GraysonU - Posted by ltomlinson34578 3 hours ago 

**I was such a brat.**

I’m 21, I got cheated on, I took my revenge. I mean, what was I supposed to do, right? I don’t think I should go into this without some kind of backstory, because I want to be able to explain myself before all the haters come in with their “I told you so’s” and their “You were in the wrong’s.” Because I know I was. This is just...I don’t know, the way that I’m going to try and get over it?

It’s been three months since my ex locked me out of our apartment (for long time readers, yes, we broke up) and literally threw all my belongings in the dumpster. He'd cheated on me, so I went over to the bitch he cheated on me with and gave him two blows to the face. Ex kicked me out not long after that, obviously. Kept on screaming his head off about how he found true love and I was just pissed that he didn’t find it with me. Honestly, it was kind of true. Doesn’t mean it felt any less amazing to knock his whore’s front teeth out. 

I mean, what did he think I was going to do? Because after I knocked that cunt’s teeth out (a feat I’m a bit too proud of if you couldn’t tell), I sort of went on a rampage. I stole his phone and told every single one of his contacts that he’s got gonorrhea juuuuuust in case there were others. I emailed his boss and told her that he was planning to make a move on her. I called his mom and told her that her son was a crack addict who sniffed glue on the weekends with Donald Trump’s trust fund nephews. “Lost a couple million brain cells” or some shit. Then I poked giant, unmistakable holes in all the condoms. Then I took the safety off his electric razor. Then peed in the plants...even in the tiny little succulents. Then made posters for an escort service and printed his phone number on them. 

Deep breath: 

Then I keyed his car, popped his tires, buried said keys...um… I could go on. I probably shouldn’t. 

I wanted him to be held accountable. I wanted him to have to explain to everyone and everything about what he did. I also let his dog run away. Fuck, I think that’s the thing I’m the most sorry about. Sweet pooch has a microchip, but what if she’d run into the highway? Jesus, I’m evil. Anyways, I heard that someone picked her up and got him back to him. I may have strapped a little note to her collar about why she’s out and about. 

I know I shouldn’t have done any of those things. It was so petty and I feel so awful about the dog that it’s scarred me for life every time a puppy prances by me, or when a feral cat hisses at me from the alleyway. God. I wish I could take most of those things back. I’m better than this. 

Like you’ve probably discerned, I’m not even sure if that one whore was the only one he’s cheated on me with. How many people did he “find true love” with? We’d been together for over a year. I feel used. I feel...broken, probably. I feel like all my bones are in the wrong place and my heart is upside down. I don’t think I can handle this anymore. I don’t think I want to. I may become a convicted murderer after this. I mean...probably not, but I’m keeping my options open. 

So much of it was my fault too, I think. I depended on him for everything: rent, gas, car, utilities, therapy (ha!). I let him have sex with me while I was asleep, I cooked him dinner every night he came home, I trusted him and all he ever did was repeat over and over again how he needed me to know that he was better than me. But I loved him. 

Fuck, love. It was actually goddamn love. 

He was the only man I ever loved. I don’t think I’ll ever love again. 

550 Upvotes - Posted by u/tentaclesrespected 2 hours ago 

**You weren’t a brat. Honestly, sounds like a normal reaction to me. You will love again, I promise. Get over this fuckface and get married to a rich business mogul, yeah?**

322 Upvotes - Posted by u/beentheredonethat666 2 hours ago 

**Sorry, but I laughed at that long list of all the things you did. Gave me quite a few ideas…**

20 Upvotes - Posted by u/hahahahaha8907 30 minutes ago 

**I got my heart broken three times by two different cheaters. Trust me, yours will reset. They all reset. It’s what makes humans human.**

Hi. Creepy alum here still on the subreddit. My husband cheated on me for three of the four years we were married. It felt like a chokehold, because I secretly knew he was doing it for the last year. I’m gay, he’s gay, well, I thought he was gay, but I started to smell someone else’s cologne on him. It wasn’t even cologne, you know? Flowery, super fruity, and sure, maybe it could’ve been a guy (never met the person), but I knew enough to know that that wasn’t his type. 

We met at a bar and got married six months after our first date. That was really my first mistake. I was raised right, and commitment meant commitment. I feel like the option to cheat was never even there on my end. Even when things started to go south I always had this understanding that my partner would be at home waiting for me or some shit. I literally have a cramp in my shoulder thinking and talking about this and my jaw’s tensing, oh god. 

Anyways. That prick doesn’t deserve you, even if you are one crazy motherfucker on a day to day basis. Good on you for making him feel it. 

_Continue Browsing on r/GraysonU_

  
  


“Shit,” Louis curses, slamming the top of his laptop down, crossing his arms and splaying his legs down onto his bed. He’s been a mess, to say the least. It took probably every last drop of determination out of him not to go on a bender, and now through that kind of perseverance everything seemed red in a very lethargic kind of way. One moment he’s picking what kind of bell pepper to buy at the market, the next he’s thinking about the time his ex said he hated green peppers, so he contests to buy some green peppers, then remembers that _he_ also hates green peppers, so he ends up furiously turns his shopping cart around to the ice cream aisle because who the fuck was he kidding. It’s been like that for kind of a while and it’s even more exhausting than being heartbroken. 

Witt. He dated a guy named Witt. Chad Witt. He dated a guy named Chad who was self-aware enough to go by _Witt_. They met at a frat party (because of course) where Witt grabbed both of Louis’ hips on the dance floor and yanked him back so hard that all of his extremities shot forward and the breath was knocked out of his lungs. After a few minutes of Witt grinding his pelvis into the small of Lou’s back, he spun him around and kissed him. Tasted like cigarettes, tequila, maybe even vomit, but definitely the feel of a trust fund tongue and a knowingness of how to work a system. 

It’s all Louis ever craved, he realized probably six months later after that first night. Someone to really take care of him. Make him feel something he’s never felt, but still have a layer of security so tightly woven that he’d never know a thing to do to unweave it. 

Security’s for pussies, Louis’ realized. Security is for the aftermath of a radical. 

“Shit,” Louis repeats at the poster of Channing Tatum he’s got plastered on the ceiling, who if he squints real hard can make out a disapproving frown. “I know, handsome. I’m kind of a fuck up, aren’t I?”

He’d never tell anyone this, but he actually did have the names of his grandchildren all figured out in his head. Bradley, Dima, Lana, Lucas. 

Louis lets his mind blank out for a few more minutes, repeating random names he once said out loud or once thought were special, twitching his fingers every now and again to confirm they all still work, and then, just when he’s just about to sit up, his phone buzzes in his back pocket. He answers, 

“Hello?” He asks, softly, dry throat threatening to crack. 

“Hey babe, are you almost ready to go out?”

“Fuck, sorry,” Louis jumps up, running a hand through his hair. Moving his laptop off from his legs, he then swings them over the edge of the bed and sighs. “Totally forgot, I haven’t even showered. Maybe I’ll just sit this one ou-”

“Don’t give me that shit,” His friend, Zayn has a talent for rolling his eyes with his voice. “You’ve literally been inside for like a year.”

“It’s been less than half of one, I’m not sure if you can count anymore with all the smoke going into your brain,” Louis jokes, but it comes out sounding super tired and weak. “Where is it again?”

“Tau Omega Rho,” Zayn informs, and then breathes in deeply. “But in all seriousness, babe, I’m kind of worried about you.”

“Yeah,” Louis cringes, his knees cracking when he stands up. “Thanks, man, but I mean...I don’t know. I dunno if it’s wise for me to go to play seven minutes in heaven with another pile of frat boy shit just yet.”

“But Lou, baby,” Zayn whines, “They appointed a new president, who I heard was hotter than all the camboys you jack off to on a daily basis. Tall, sturdy, like a sexy tree.”

Louis gulps. “But what if _he’s_ there?”

“ _He_ won’t be,” says Zayn, “They’re supposed to be rivals right now because of a prank war and no one’s allowed in each other’s houses.”

“Is this house the one that has the cute work-study boy?” Louis teases, “With the curly brown hair and big puppy dog eyes?” 

Zayn laughs, “Maybe,” It’s all drawn out and slurred-like, which means yes and that he’s already well on the road to being hammered. Louis checks the clock and shit, at this rate, he’ll need to drag his friend back to his dorm. If he goes to this party, that is. 

“Fuck it,” Apparently, he’s going. “Let me just clean myself up and I’ll meet you there.” 

“Alright. By the way, can I...move in with you?” Zayn asks in a low voice, softly, so much so that he nearly sounds sober. (As sober as he can be, the sweetheart convinces everyone that he has to constantly be a little bit high in order to really get the most out of his Creative Design degree.) ((Yes, he knows it's a bullshit degree.)) 

Louis doesn’t have the capacity to think about what it’d be like to disable his smoke detectors at the moment, so he dodges the question, “We’ll talk about it later, okay?” 

“O-kay, Lou baby.” Zayn makes kissy noises and hangs up. 

He’s such an odd soul, that one. That’s what Louis thinks as he strips down and turns on his shower, gasping and letting his stomach swell with air. As he lets the water hit him like he’s caught in the rain, he manages to move his arms from that state of bliss to thoroughly rub his hair with shampoo, rub soap into and behind his ears and scrub it down all over his body, taking extra care to the “parts that matter most” and even sitting down to fully rip up the skin on the bottom of his feet.

He’s probably not going to get laid tonight with all the heavy drinking and crying he’ll be doing, but it would sure be _embarrassing_ to smell bad passing by a hot guy. 

“Like a sexy tree, huh?” Louis says out loud, giggling while cleaning out the corners of his eyes. 

He manages to sweep a bit and throw out the trash before he properly heads out, hips swaying in a pair of jeans that nearly didn’t make it up past his ass, cologne permeating through collarbone skin; all the pheromones that this hot fucker is about to _release_. 

“I love you,” He says to the homeless woman who gives him a smiley look with her head tilted just slightly. “Here’s twenty bucks, Moira.” 

“Thank you, baby. Don’t catch nothing tonight,” She snorts, pocketing the cash inside her bra. “Seriously. Gonorrhea isn’t a joke.” 

Louis clicks his teeth (after choking back a laugh), “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

  
  


“Shit!” Zayn curses when he sees Louis cross the threshold. “Fucking finally, c’mere.” He doesn’t lunge, because Zayn would never, but allows Louis to crawl into his arms. 

It’s amazing. For the amount that the kid smokes, he never ever smells of it. Louis buries his nose into his friend’s neck and takes a deep inhale. “Mm. New fumes?” 

“Gucci,” Zayn grins, “Flowers smell like sex on me. Come on, let me get you a drink.” 

They sift through the crowd of teenagers and near-men, the finance bros coughing and laughing as Communications majors grind down on their laps. There’s a haze coming from the stairs, so Louis takes a big breath in like it’s practice for something. Zayn notices it, because Zayn always manages to think eighty steps ahead, and gives Louis a wink. “How hard we going tonight?” 

“I just want a beer, man.” 

Zayn nods once to the bartender and snags two bottles. “For sure.” 

It’s really obvious that Louis’ uncomfortable, so Zayn kind of nudges him with his own body out into the backyard, where people are skinny dipping on the deep end and fucking underneath the water where it’s 3 ½ feet and lower. “Jesus Christ.” 

“The clinic will be stuffed tomorrow, let’s just say that. Some kid brought spice, so try and stay clear of any bushes unless you want piss all over you like a Pollack.” Zayn sits them down at a far away bench and lights up a cigarette. 

Louis coats his lips with the beer just to _do something_ and knows he’s been biting off the skin too hard because they begin to sting. “Can’t believe this was my scene last year.” 

“You were wearing rose colored glasses,” Zayn hums. Exhale, “I’m getting kicked out of my dorm come Tuesday.” 

“What for?” Louis reaches forward to slip the bud out from in between his friend’s lips for a hit. 

“Eh, smoking. Roommate sold me out.” 

“Shit, are you getting expelled?” 

Zayn shakes his head, “Nah. They can’t afford to lose me entirely. They did suggest I find off-campus living unless I wanted my grant to be given to the Latino kid on the waitlist.” 

“They worded it like that?” says Louis with his eyebrows raised. “Sounds racist.” 

“The whole system is racist,” Zayn laughs like he knows it’s the only way to say it without getting sad. “That’s why I need a place to crash. ‘Till I can save up some money and get a place of my own.” 

Louis nods, “For sure, brother. I got an extra room.” 

Zayn frowns and punches Louis lightly in the shoulder. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“You better pay half of the rent, though.” 

Zayn nods and presses a kiss to Louis’ head. “You’re so fucking cute, you know that? In another life, I’d be all over you.” 

“But then what would you do about that plump piece of ass?” Louis refers to the running back currently getting held upside down with a hose in his mouth and beer running out of his nose.

“Mm,” Zayn contemplates. “Squeeze it while he fucks me up against a wall.” 

“Whore.” 

“Slut.” 

They both giggle and chug the rest of their beers, leaning back onto the thin and hard wood with their legs spread. Then, Zayn straightens up and waggles his eyebrows. “That’s the new president. He’s an Econ major.”

Louis cringes, “Glasses? He looks like a total prude.” 

“I heard his dick is like ten inches,” Zayn sucks a sharp breath in between his teeth before tapping off the ash. 

“His name?” 

“Styles,” Zayn bursts out laughing at Louis’ reaction, then goes completely serious. “Harry Styles.” Some eyebrow waggling. 

Louis can hardly believe it, “Harold Styles? What’s his fucking middle name, Charles?” 

“Probably something like Alexander or Edward,” Zayn snickers, throwing the remainder of his cigarette and rubbing it under the sole of his shoe. “But you know, I feel like…” 

That’s another thing. Zayn’s instincts are always right. 

“I feel like he’s one of those boys who kisses their mommy’s cheek in the morning all sweet...then has a twink bent over calling him daddy in the evening.” 

**_Ch2: Have you got color in your cheeks?_ **

Louis blinks. He does it so forcefully he can hear his own eyelids crunching against each other. 

“Hey, Malik!” 

“Hi, Whore-an,” Zayn smiles brightly, giving a proper greeting to the blonde bro that saunters over. “You’re almost there with the walk, bro.”

“Thanks, man. Almost convincing, right? Think I can fuck Witt’s mom like this?”

Shit, Zayn looks over and Louis’ gone solid. “You can do better than that. I bet her tits are saggy as fuck after her cunt-munching gay boy yanked and sucked on them for most of his pre-teens.” 

Nice save, but not really. Louis’ beginning to slump over like a sad balloon on its last legs. “Nah, have you seen her lately? That woman is at least 60% silicone.” Niall’s being really loud, which is how they know it’s all just an act to make him seem cool to the upperclassmen. His secret plan is to become president next election and totally reform the whole system. This misogynist act is all in the bigger picture of making frat boys next year volunteer at dog shelters. 

Zayn shrugs, “Maybe. Don’t go near Payne’s ass, though. That bitch is mine. Let all your freshman friends know.”

Niall whistles, “That’s a real claim. You’re pissing a circle around him, man.”

“None of these pussies can touch me. I’ve been here since before you were born,” Zayn sighs happily. “I’m selling paintings to all your dads for $800 a piece and making ‘em gag for it.”

“Styles is coming,” Horan gives Louis kind of a worried look. “You okay?”

“What? Me?” Louis snaps out of his daze, “Oh, yeah.” 

Niall’s face crumples, “Oh fuck, it’s cause I mentioned Witt, didn’t I?”

“You’re good, babe, don’t worry about it.” Louis gives a half smile and steals Niall’s jello shot. He says with his mouth full, “Fuck that cunt muching whore and his mom!” He hurrahs, standing right up and heading over to the table of drinks. 

“Did I start something?” Niall asks Zayn, who looks genuinely surprised.

“Nah. It was already coming,” Zayn blows a kiss and watches him walk away. “By the way, tell Jones to slow down. He’s gonna send himself to the ER at the rate he’s going.”

“Sure thing, dad.” 

At the other end of the patio, Louis pours himself a cocktail of vodka, spirits, various chopped fruits, and a splash of tequila (for good measure). He’s probably going to die, but if it saves him from the embarrassment he’s just made of himself in front of a _sophomore_ , he’d gladly meet God early. 

He exhales dramatically as he stares down the cup. Frankly, it looks--

“Disgusting.”

Louis blinks again before looking up, “Sorry?”

It’s that guy that everyone’s been talking about. The president or whatever packing ten inches. Shit, is he already drunk? 

“We don’t allow idiot freshmen to come here and mix drinks so unholy that Jesus would swear at them,” Harry leans in and aggressively snatches the cup away from Louis, making his jaw drop. 

_Diiiiiiick,_ “I’m not a fucking freshmen,” Louis scoffs, “And I wasn’t mixing for taste, pal.” He accentuates the last word, curling the corner of his brow into that of downright petulance. 

Harry looks him up and down, “You sure? You seem kind of young.”

“That supposed to be a swipe at my height?” Louis nearly _snarls_ he’s just all of a sudden so mad, he just wants to chug a drink and forget all about… “Just because you’re president, _fuckface_ , doesn’t mean you get to treat me like shit. I don’t even know you.”

“I can get you thrown out,” Styles leans in real close to Louis’ face. “You want that?”

“Witt from the house across the street cheated on me with a guy who wears perfume from Bath and Body Works. If I wanted to do something light and happy, it would’ve taken me less effort to buy some boxed wine from Walmart.” Louis lets Harry trash the drink he’s made because he’s already making a new one. This time, straight vodka, probably a full 8 ounces of it. 

Harry almost looks like he feels bad, “Fucking hate Witt. He used me to cheat on his final last semester.” 

Louis nearly laughs, “So you’re one of _those_ boys.” 

Amused, Harry leans against the wall and smiles at him. “And what’s that supposed to mean, babe?”

Louis rolls his eyes and looks right at Harry’s hair and overall disposition. He does look like he smells good and has that energy surrounding him that screams ‘fat cock.’ Might as well be tattooed on his forehead. “Babe? Only Zayn calls me that.”

“Malik? Bought a painting from him for my mom.” Harry hums like he’s approving of the taste in friends Louis has. 

“Oh yeah?” Louis thinks to himself quickly ‘of course he did,’ “Which one?”

“Private commission.”

Louis sputters so forcefully it almost sounds like he’s talking in Russian, “Zayn never does commissions. You browse and you buy.”

Harry shrugs, “Guess I got him to turn around,” He looks Louis up and down. “I can be very convincing.” 

So he’s feeling a little betrayed, because Zayn sized up a man too vaguely and sent Louis down a path basically blindsided. He turns and mouths “what the fuck, Zayn?” which in turn gets a “what?” back from his friend. Zayn’s too close to stuffing his hand down Liam’s pants, so no use trying to get him to repent for his sins. 

Because that’s another thing. Zayn never does anything for anyone unless he _really_ cares about them. 

“What’d he make for you?” Louis asks cautiously, because if it sounds better than anything he’s made for Louis, he’s going to be pissed. 

Harry takes out the wallet in his back pocket—which is fat, by the way—and pulls out a small picture. “I got him to paint this portrait of my mom and my dad from when they were kids. She loved it so much she cried.” 

“Good for you,” Louis hmpfs, slowly reaching the ice at the bottom of his cup. “You wanna dance or something?”

“No, babe.” Harry makes a face like he couldn’t be bothered. “I don’t dance.”

“Come on,” Louis hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate. “Zayn doesn’t dance but he’s doing it. I’m full of it now, won’t even remember if you do anything to me.”

There’s a pause, as if Harry needed time to process what in the fuck Louis just said. “Sorry?”

Louis beckons him close, and once he is, he yanks Harry’s collar so hard the boy scuffs the tops of his white sneakers. He takes a deep inhale of his neck and has to resist sticking his tongue out for a taste. “God, you smell good.” 

Harry sounds just a bit flustered. “I’m not gonna do anything to you.”

Everything is coated in a layer of bubbles. “Do I smell good?”

“Yeah,” Harry answers softly, in a whisper.

“I showered before I came.”

“Good call. So did I.”

Louis takes one final sigh before shoving Harry away and stumbling back towards the house. “I’m going dancing.” 

Harry has to fix his stance before he falls over. Then, he looks in Zayn’s direction. “You gonna do something about that?”

Zayn snaps his head towards him just enough to get a full view of what Liam Payne’s face looks like right as he’s about to come. “Your bitch, your problem.” He turns and there’s a loud shout. 

“Fuck,” Harry groans, ruffling his hair before walking confidently, biting the inside of his cheek as he searches for a nice ass in red jeans. Girls gasp and make high pitched noises as he sort of barges his way past them, sticking his neck out into different rooms to see if _that guy_ stumbled in. “Hey, have any of you seen a twink in Keds?”

The junkie in the corner throws his arms up and shrugs. 

“Hey, pres. Some junior’s on the kitchen counter hopping around on one foot,” A brother informs with a grimace on his face. “Looks like he’s about to blow at any second.”

“Not mixing for taste, huh?” Harry mutters, following the path into the kitchen to the sight before him. “You know, babe, I left you alone for a total of two minutes.”

“You couldn’t find me for a whole,” Louis halts abruptly and holds his mouth, then continues once he’s forced it all back down. “Two minutes?” Somehow, he’s already found himself with another cup. 

“Come on, sugar, get down from there?”

“Sugar?” Louis shakes his head, “Where are you from _, yeehaw country?”_

Harry snorts, “Sure. I’m from Atlanta.” 

“Atlanta?” Louis swivels his hips off beat and then moves his arms on it, which seems like a near impossible feat if his ass weren’t so big it practically had a mind of its own. Not that Harry’s looking, anyways. “That’s a name.”

“Pretty sure it was a city first. Where are you from?” Harry’s actually keeping a close eye on Louis’ feet to make sure none of them step on a ground that isn’t there. 

“The hood.” Louis says casually. 

“City?” Harry pours a cup of water from the tap. “You can’t be from the hood. You’re such a lightweight.”

“Like you would know, trust fund baby?” Louis bounces and is honestly just vibing. “Chicago.” 

“I don’t even know what a trust fund is,” Harry laughs, handing Louis the cup. “Hold your breath, babe, it’s nice and strong.”

“Mm,” Louis downs the whole thing, then angrily throws the plastic cup across the room. “Fucking bitch, you watered me down!”

“Didn’t think it would be that easy,” Harry takes the opportunity to grab Louis’ legs and drag him off the counter. “There you go.”

“Zayn said your cock is ten inches long.”

“Hm,” hums Harry, whose hands have somehow made their way to Louis’ waist. “Does he have a reliable source confirming that?”

“So...you have a choad, then?” Louis sobs, and it makes people around them give them a second glance. 

“No, babe, I don’t,” Harry says it loudly before leaning in and pressing their foreheads together. “You’re running a high temperature, sugar.”

“I told him I lubbed him,” Louis babbles. 

“Told who? Your ex?” Harry’s grip is so strong Louis’ doesn't even need to hold himself up anymore. 

Louis nods, “I sucked his dick like ten times a week.”

“Surprised it didn’t fall off.” 

“Nah,” Louis’ face looks utterly broken. “I would kiss it and he’d come.” 

Harry barks out a laugh and kisses Louis’ shoulder. “Tell me more.”

“I keyed his car and broke his windows and told Reddit I did it.” So Louis continues, looking mournful but pleased with himself at the same time. 

Harry jokes, “That was you? Jesus, you’re one crazy motherfucker.”

“You saw it?” Louis pulls back with tears in his eyes. 

And usually, Harry’d be mean and tease a bit more, but this time, his whole being just didn’t want him to. “No, sugar, promise I didn’t. ‘Was just messing around. I’m not even on the school subreddit, I promise.” 

“Would _you_ cheat on me?” Louis blurts out in an accusatory tone. 

Shit, when was he going to sober up? To avoid an answer, Harry shuffles them back towards the kitchen sink for more water. Yet again, his whole being just gets caught in his throat. (Or maybe it was guilt.) “Of course not. I’m no cheater.” In this lighting, the cheap chandelier’s twinkling in Louis’ left eye. His hair is drooping down to the center of his forehead, lips cherry red and looking so bitten Harry’s starting to feel jealous. “Would you?”

“Are you kidding?” Louis raises an eyebrow, which was a sight so mesmerizing it was better than sex. His adam’s apple bobbed in a way only Harry could notice from this distance. If there was any distance to really measure out at all. (Pressed up against each other like Twix bars that refuse to fall from a vending machine.) “I’d die before I did that to anyone. When did honesty become so expensive?”

Fuck. Harry looks down. 

He’s hard. 

**_Ch3: Are there some aces up your sleeve?_ **

“Thanks,” Louis mumbles with a cigarette in between his teeth. Harry’s holding the lighter like a pussy, with one hand blocking the wind from blowing the flame out. Louis sucks in and releases, feeling something toxic festering in his center. “Shit.” 

Harry sighs and leans back, closing his eyes when the breeze makes his hair fall in front of his face. “It’s kind of a nice night.” 

“Whatever I said in there, do me a favor and just forget it,” Louis chuckles, swiveling his mouth around as he takes deep breaths. “You wanna hit?” 

“No, I don’t smoke.” 

“Figured.” 

“Nah really, my mom’s got asthma. Can’t pick up a habit,” Harry politely declines a second time. “You cold? I can get you a blanket.” 

Louis shakes his head, “Nah, I’m alright.” 

Harry walks back in and gets him one anyways, which makes Louis smile so wide he can feel it in his ears. He’s rubbing his face with his free hand by the time Harry comes back and drapes it across his shoulders. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

“You know,” starts Louis. “You don’t sound all that Southern.” 

“My mom is. My dad’s from England.” Harry informs, biting his lip when Louis stretches his neck. 

“Really? Interesting.” Louis thinks it’s so hot, but if he lets it show then who knows what he’d do at the sight of Harry’s probable smirk. “Must’ve gotten your nice teeth from her.” 

“Kind of a fucked up thing to say, isn’t it?” Despite his words, Harry laughs anyways. 

Louis turns to face him and holds out his arms to his sides. “Sorry. Punch me if you want. It’s how we settle ‘fucked up’ back where I’m from.” 

“Braces. I got braces,” Harry lightly shoves the back of Louis’ neck and the both of them have to hold back a shiver. “Yeah? You win a lot of fights back in your day?” 

“Yeah, I’d shake this ass and render them immobile,” Louis sardonically drones with a dead face. "The same effect as if I "accidentally" dropped a pen in front of you. Nice 'lil bend and snap." 

“Wonderful,” Harry can’t stop staring at Louis’ neck. “Terribly rated Legally Blonde jokes." 

“Wonderful,” Louis mocks, “Stick in the ass attitude.” Harry’s nose is so perfect, he’s just realized. “You, you sure you don’t want a hit?” 

“I’m sure, sugar.” 

Louis shrugs, but Jesus, it was difficult to do that instead of whimpering and spreading his legs. “Alright then.” Stupid frat boy’s got cheekbones for days. 

“What’s your major?” Harry asks. 

“Not saying. What’s yours, finance?” 

“No,” Harry smiles, “Econ.” 

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Louis flicks his cigarette, then slides it across the ground to put it out. 

“No, I feel like one’s more about money and the other is more about decisions.” 

“So you study decisions and run a frat?” Louis giggles, as if that shit’s funny. (It’s actually unbearably sexy. He wants Harry to throw his leg up and shove it in.) “Do you really keep a picture of your parents in your wallet?” 

“Yup,” Harry pulls it out to show him again. “And one with my sister, and one with my dog and cat snuggling.”

“That’s...really cute, not gonna lie.” Louis admits, leaning just a smidge closer to get a better look. “She’s so pretty.” 

“Hey,” Harry playfully drawls, eyes shimmering. “Don’t let Gemma steal this moment.” 

“So we’re having a moment?” teases Louis, pleading and begging with God if he could just have a lick up Harry's neck. 

“I don't know, we’re having a moment if we’re having a moment,” Harry puts his wallet away. “What about you? Got any family?” 

“Yeah,” Louis smiles, unlocking his phone. “That’s my stepdad, my sisters and the little ones.” 

Harry takes the phone, which usually Louis would get pissed off at, but this was really just a chance for their hands to brush up against each other. He parrots, “So fucking cute, not gonna lie. Mom?”

“Not around anymore,” Louis swallows and it was louder than he thought it’d be. 

“Sorry.” 

“S’alright.” Louis takes his phone back gently and almost wishes Harry grabbed his wrist. He wants to kiss him so bad. 

And it’s not one sided either, Harry’s lips have been twitching for the past twenty minutes. “So um, why haven’t I ever seen you around before?”

Louis raises his eyebrow in response, “Do you even know my name?”

“Shit,”

He snorts so hard he has to cover his mouth, instantly becoming more mortified than Harry is. “It’s—It’s Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” 

Harry rubs the back of his head looking guilty, “Harry. I have a feeling that you already knew that.” The wind picks up in that moment and makes his shirt puff up with cold air, so Louis takes pity on him and wraps the blanket around the both of them. “Thanks.”

“Why’re you here?” Louis asks in disbelief, blinking slowly. God, Harry thinks. He’s so fucking pretty. With his eyelashes and his cute button nose being the meeting point between two sloping cheekbones, a blush faded across his nose with lips all puckered like he’s _ready for it._ It’s only going to get worse if he keeps describing the entirety of Louis’ face over and over again. 

He stutters on his response, “Wh-What do you mean?”

“With me. Outside on the front porch with the added company of that blacked out senior laying face down in the grass and a full view of the house across from us currently housing my piece of shit ex-boyfriend?” Louis’ body heat is radiating onto Harry’s arm. 

“Is that why we’re sitting at the front of the house? So you can reminisce?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “It was Witt, right?”

Louis sniffs. “Yeah.” 

“And you told him you lubbed him?” Harry’s so close to pressing his lips to his cheek. 

Louis looks at him with watery eyes and a pout so pronounced one would have mistaken him for an actual puppy. “Yeah.” He starts crying, much to Harry’s horror. “Oh, fuck you.” 

“Sorry, sugar,” Harry winces as Louis throws a flat fist to his chest in rapidly increasing indignation. “I’m sorry. He’s a jerk, I’d certainly never treat you that way.”

They both pause for a second, wide-eyed and stupid. Louis moves first, hitting Harry's arm again with weak willed anger. With his head lowered he whispers, “Yeah, right.” 

Harry decides to bite the bullet then and kiss Louis’ shoulder, a feat that has the both of them gasping. “Swear on my life.” He whispers in all seriousness, looking up slightly. 

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Oh, come on, sugar-”

“No seriously, I-” 

Louis hurls all over Harry’s shirt, much to his abject disgust (and to Harry’s odd wonder), and even goes a few lurches of his lunch and dinner all over him. None of it gets on his face, thank god, but now the two of them are covered in vomit and it’s only midnight. 

“Shit,” Harry says calmly, looking down at himself. “You okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” Louis covers his mouth and tries to back away from his abstract masterpiece. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” It comes out as a laugh, which Harry didn’t even expect from himself. “I’m used to being puked on.” It’s a lie, but anything to make Louis feel better. “Let’s uh, go upstairs and clean up, alright?” 

“Maybe I should go--I’m so sorry.”

“No, sugar, don’t leave,”

It sounds desperate. Desperate doesn’t look good on someone who could major in being passive, responsible, a little bored. However, Harry also values the genuinity of his own emotions, and right now, he just so, so wants to grip onto this strange creature and never let him leave. It certainly comes off a bit aggressive though, judging by how Louis pauses for a second looking incredibly conflicted. Then, he sighs and attempts to use the blanket Harry gave him to wipe off some of the vomit. “I’m so gross.”

“A shower will fix it.” Harry assures, standing up and grabbing Louis’ wrist a bit too forcefully for his own liking. “Please don’t leave.”

They walk back into the house together, with Harry’s arm wrapped around Louis’ shoulder to keep him from slumping over back onto the brick. The house now smells like moldy cheese and weed, which makes Harry’s sensibilities tremble, but they both try to ignore it for the sake of the current situation. 

Which is now: Louis sprawled out on the floor next to the bed while Harry showers, panting aggressively into the wall as he works himself off as silently as he can. It’s taking longer because at one point he had to start biting into the washcloth in fear of someone hearing. His abs are shaking, biceps constricting, but for some reason his grip’s all out of whack. 

Once he gets into a better rhythm, he closes his eyes and tries to imagine anything but the hot piece currently in his room, probably too helpless to walk lest speak, all soft touches with firm muscles, reading him poetry or some shit—

“Ugh, baby,” The door slams open and there’s shuffling, which makes Harry’s eyes snap open and his hand slip off his dick. “Fuck me!”

“Get the fuck out!” He practically roars at the couple tossing each other off on the sink, startling them so much they nearly slip and fall on their naked asses. Another night he’d feel bad about it, but he hasn’t got any room in his head for it right now. 

“Are you almost done?” Louis slinks into the bathroom after dodging the couple, leaning against the door frame. His eyes look droopy and glassy, almost like he’s about to pass out at any second. “I need to...brush my teeth.”

“There are…” Harry stops, dumbfounded, still holding onto his cock which is thickening up again at an alarming rate, “...extra brushes in the bottom cabinet.” 

Louis’ eyes travel down to Harry’s pelvic region and then back up just to roll them. _Rolls his eyes._ “Once you’re done, you wanna get ice cream?”

“S-sure,” Harry lets go of his dick again, which makes an unfortunate slapping sound as it hits his stomach. “Sorry.” Why is he apologizing?

“I’m used to it.” Louis says curtly, turning on the tap to splash his face with water. “Ugh, can I get a change of clothes too?”

“Yeah,” Harry says a bit more confidently, trying to take deep breaths and still his heart at the same time. “Check my closet.”

“Mmkay.” 

Once Louis leaves, he wanks so furiously he nearly pulls his dick off. He comes crying out like a teenager, white spots in his eyes, tingling in his toes. 

“Tilly’s, then?” Harry asks dumbly, as if he wasn’t aware that it was literally the middle of the night and most ice cream shops close at seven. _And_ he was dripping tracks onto his rug. “I’ll pay.”

“Tilly’s is closed,” Louis comes out of his closet looking like a dream, wiggling around in Harry’s joggers and a t-shirt much too large for his frame. It’s mouthwatering, really. “I was just thinking the minimart down the block for some Ben & Jerry’s?”

Why is he asking it like it’s a question? Harry would go anywhere with him. “For sure. What’s your poison?”

“Half baked, obviously,” Louis rolls his eyes again and holds onto the cuff of Harry’s collar. “Listen, I’m planning to get laid tonight.”

“Alrighty.”

“So if you’re not gonna fuck me once we come back, I’ll take myself to another house party to find someone who will. And I won’t return your clothes.” Louis whispers, leading Harry’s hand to snake around his waist. 

Harry scoffs, “Is that your idea of a threat?” Just as he says it, Louis’ eyes twinkle. “Manipulating someone into having sex with you is a pretty low bar.”

“Is it manipulation? I chose your ugliest,” Louis laughs, sounding and looking very amused. “Surely you don’t want _these_ back.” 

Harry’s lips round into an ‘o’. “I’m offended by that statement, how dare you? If you really wanted nothing other than my dick you would’ve found someone to entertain you in the time it took for me to shower.” 

They’ve managed to make it out of the house and onto the street, where the opposing house is now having a blast seeing how far they can kick empty beer cans. Harry notices how Louis’ eyes kind of wander, as if he’s searching for someone. So he grabs Louis’ wrist and spins him back until they’re both pressed up against one another. 

“Pay me some attention and sober up. Then maybe I’ll fuck you,” Harry growls through his teeth, “Or maybe I should just go back inside and find someone willing to serve their ass up for me?”

“Bet it wouldn’t be nearly as good,” Louis smirks, “I worked on this at the gym for years. I should receive an award for my talent in squeezing. That and blowjobs.” 

“I was under the impression that your idea of a hummer is a nice little peck and a wave.” 

Fuck. Now they’re walking down the sidewalk with shouts and whistles chasing after them, as if sounds could touch you and make you feel. They’re still so close that they each have one leg constantly brushing up against the other’s, trying to simmer down the heat behind their eyes but failing to stop releasing the obvious aura of desire. You win some, you lose some. 

It’s kind of fucking creepy, actually. Harry ends up paying eight dollars for a pint of overrated ice cream and asking for two spoons, plopping down next to a still drunk Louis, ripping open the plastic covering way more aggressively than he needs to. 

“Here,” says Harry, using his own spoon to scoop a dainty little bite and holding it up to Louis’ mouth. “If you really want to make a threat, baby, let’s see what that mouth can do.”

“Hmpf,” Louis pouts, but sticks his tongue out anyways, hollowing out his cheeks while looking straight up into Harry’s eyes. And while the latter can’t feel anything going on in there, the plastic spoon tips and makes tension against his fingers, all the way up until the contestant in question pops his lips off to reveal a completely clean bowl. “Gimme a bite with brownie.”

“Are you still drunk? I’m not gonna fuck someone still drunk, even remotely or mildly.” Harry blabs, like he’s no longer got any control over his tongue. He has to swallow the drool that’s pooled from watching Louis eat. 

“Hey, aren’t presidents supposed to like, supervise parties and shit?” Louis asks, rubbing up against Harry’s body for warmth. 

Harry shrugs, “They can handle another five minutes alone.” 

“Wow,” Louis hums, taking the pint so that he could feed Harry a bite. “I must really be affecting you, then.”

“Did you drug me or something?” Harry doesn’t deny it.

Louis’ eyes are still glassy and his fingers are still shaking. “I didn’t do anything. You took my drink and gave it to the pool. Then I danced and you fell for me, plain and simple.”

Harry shakes his head, “No one is falling for no one, you have it wrong.” Louis totally does not have it wrong. He nearly drops the spoon when Louis keens forward and opens his mouth erotically, asking for another bite. 

“We should get back to your baby brothers soon,” Louis keeps teasing and Harry can’t figure out why. Pulling and the pushing again with a statement like that? “It must get busy having to babysit all the time.” 

“I won’t tolerate your insolence,” It comes out so shaky, “You saw how hard you got me.” 

Louis kisses his shoulder before standing up, “And you wasted it on the wall of your shower. Come on, stupid.” He begins to walk away, and so of course Harry has to act like they’re connected by a chain, throwing the half empty pint of ice cream away and chasing after Louis’ heels. 

  
  


This was so much trouble, honestly. If a guy hasn’t jumped him by now, he’s either not interested or an actual virgin, and Louis’ beginning to think that it’s likely the latter. Who even came up with the rumor that this guy had a ten inch cock? Maybe seven inches, at most. Unimpressive. Probably not strong enough to hold him up against the wall. 

Speaking of which, he really hopes Zayn and Liam have gotten that over and done with by now so that he could vent to his best friend about the woes of being sexy yet still horny. Horny, as in, he still hasn’t found someone to fuck it out of him yet. 

Maybe he’s becoming ugly. God forbid, “Am I just ugly, then?”

Harry makes a face so comically offended Louis feels the relief lift the heaviness off his chest. “You’re, you’re fucking beautiful.” He really didn’t need to go one step farther just to pad Louis’ ego, since Louis’ willing to fuck just about anyone or anything right about now. “Who told you that you were ugly?”

“As more time passes without you on me,” Louis sighs fretfully. “I’m starting to think there’s an ulterior motive involved.”

“Maybe I just want to hang out with you because you’re pretty...cool,” Harry retorts, with his hands shoved in his pockets to not show how his fingers have been fidgeting. “And also the fact that you’re still inebriated.” 

“I’m not inebriated,” Louis huffs, then grabs Harry’s arm. He makes him point into the sky. Luckily, their school is in a town where there isn’t so much pollution as to block all the stars. “There’s the North Star, then the Big Dipper…”

Harry can’t focus on the stars right now. Louis’ hand is gripping his arm and the heat between their skin is making his brain mush. “...There’s even Orion. See? I’m not drunk.”

“Uh huh,” Is the best response he can come up with. “So that’s why you’ve been walking around like you’re trying to outrun an elephant.”

Louis scrunches up his face, “What?”

“Walk in a straight line for me, sugar.”

“Seriously dude, policemen do not turn me on. Stop acting like one.” 

“I don’t doubt your abilities in being an astronomer,” Harry steps back and crosses his arms. “But I fear you’re still drunk. And as long as you’re still drunk, I’m not going to do a single thing to you.” Jesus, Harry felt weird about saying that. As if him touching anyone was some kind of a reward. Louis certainly made it feel that way though, which was so hot, enticing, and obviously dangerous. 

“Fine,” Louis seethes, before puffing his chest up and locking his heels together. He then proceeds to walk right into a bush. “Ah, fuck.”

Harry stifles a laugh before helping Louis up again, supporting his back with one arm. “Come on, now.” 

“Where are we going?”

“You don’t remember?” Harry asks, a bit concerned. “Back to the house. You can crash in my room for the night.”

“Hm.” Louis disapproves, “Zayn can take me home.”

“I’m sure Zayn is even more hammered than you are and is also staying at the house tonight,” Harry gives up on the wounded soldier position and scoops Louis up into his arms. “But if I’m wrong, sure. He can take you home.”

“Mm,” Louis bites his lower lip with his eyes closed, softly holding onto Harry’s arm. Jesus. Harry’s arm is so muscular and he feels like he isn’t being a strain on them at all. How high up in the air is he?

“No, no,” Harry protests when Louis starts wiggling around, “Stop, sugar.” 

“WOO!” 

Louis' head snaps up because of the loud noise, ears ringing. “What?”

“The prince is carrying his princess—” Some loud mouthed sophomore. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Harry called back playfully, but it really didn’t sound all that playful. “Seriously, you’ll get fined if you wake anyone up and they complain.”

“Sorry, pres.” Apparently, they were already back at the house, half of the partygoers having already stumbled out, the music was now switched to a peaceful Fleetwood Mac-remastered album. 

“Hey, someone take Gunner back to his room,” Harry sighs, and Louis thinks it’s probably the senior that passed out on the front lawn. “I’m posting the cleaning schedule tomorrow and waking everyone up at 10 if you aren’t up already. We have a house check-in at five so everyone better do their part.” 

“Who’s that?” Louis hears someone ask, probably referring to him. He hears Harry answer with, “Louis.” As if anyone is supposed to know just by that. Then the world starts bouncing, so Harry’s carrying him up the stairs. It’s so much hotter than he ever thought it would be, being carried as though he weighed nothing at all. 

Why is an Econ major so fit anyways? 

When he opens his eyes again, he’s sitting on Harry’s bed, legs hanging off the side. Harry’s cleaning up the mess on his desk, looking awfully busy for someone who should be in a coma after all the events that happened tonight. When he turns around and their eyes meet, all he says is, “Zayn’s passed out on the couch.”

“Okay,” Louis fidgets under his gaze, suddenly feeling small and helpless. “I can sleep here then?”

“Sure,” Harry shrugs as if he wasn’t the one who suggested it in the first place. “Do you want to sleep in those, or…?”

“Where did I put my clothes?” Louis questions, watching as Harry sheds of his shirt and ruffles his hair. 

“I threw them in the wash.” 

“Oh, okay.” Louis licks his lips, breath hitching when Harry comes to sit next to him. “This is...kinda weird.”

“Yeah, it is,” Harry swings his legs over Louis’ head and lays down on his back. “I think I’m fine with it though. You?”

Louis ponders for a second, still feeling dizzy and loopy and underwater. Then, he shows a small nod. “Don’t hog the blanket, I get cold.”

“I don’t even use the blanket most of the time.”

“Psycho. Aren’t you scared of a demon grabbing your legs?” Louis leans up against Harry with his back turned, curling up towards his center. 

“Because a duvet I bought from Target is going to protect me?” Harry snorts, and Louis snorts too, which is something he hasn’t genuinely done in months. “You’re so cute. You look like a baby cat.”

“A what?” Louis turns around just because of how ridiculous it was. “A baby what?”

“A baby cat,” Harry blinks at him, the realization hitting him with a brick about three seconds later. “Oh, cheese and crackers.”

“I guess you don’t see a lot of kittens back where you’re from,” Louis giggles, staying to face him. “I used to have a lot of cats that lived in my backyard.”

“For free?”

Louis giggles again, “Yes, I didn’t charge them rent.”

“Sounds like a nice life,” Harry hums, eyes closing. He has one hand behind his head, supporting his neck so that Louis can use most of the pillow. The other was lazily sprawled against his middle, so that Louis can have most of the bed. Louis noticed. “And they had a lot of kittens?”

“So many,” Louis continues on auto-pilot, “And eventually we either had to give them away or they all got caught by Animal Control. It was kinda sad.”

Harry’s eyes blink open, “Sounds devastating, actually.”

Louis shrugs, “C’est la vie. What about your pets? A golden retriever, right?”

“Close,” Harry smiles, and in his tone, a hint of nostalgia. “A labradoodle. Her name’s Thea, and our kitty’s name is Geronimo.”

Louis gasps, “The fucking mouse books?”

“Yes, the fucking mouse books!” Harry admonishes, “You read them too?”

“God, they were my favorite! I used to like, hoard all of them from our classroom library and lie whenever someone asked where they went.”

“Why did you feel like you had to hoard them?” Harry cocks his head to the side so that he can get a proper look at Louis’ expression when he answers. 

“In retrospect, not sure. I think it was anxiety or something. Those books were really hard to come by. I think any of the kids who went to the same school would’ve done the same.” Louis’ eyes start fluttering. 

“I think I’m learning a lot about you,” Harry whispers softly.

“I’m learning very little about you,” Louis whispers back, wondering why the air had suddenly gone so quiet. “Actually, you know what? Scratch that. I think I’ve learned plenty about you tonight.”

“Like what?”

“You’re super strong,” Louis giggles, “And you really care about your job as president and stuff. And you understand what respect is.”

“Hm,” Harry seems to disagree. “I’m just...I just am.”

“Let me just add “undermines himself” to the list,” Louis makes a show of pantomiming his hand scribbling notes onto his other hand. “What will happen once we wake up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you a virgin? Is that why you don’t want to fuck me?”

“I—I...you’re so interesting.” 

“So that’s a yes, then,” Louis jokes, “I don’t mind being your first.”

“I honestly find you so fascinating. What could have possessed you in your past life to act and think this way now?” Harry rolls Louis over so that they’re no longer facing each other. “No, I’m not a virgin.”

“I think you’re not telling me anything _telling_ so that you can play the “I’m the normal one between the two of us” role,” Louis brings the blanket up above his head, getting a full whiff of the cedarwood laundry detergent Harry apparently uses. 

“My first was with my high school English teacher.” Harry blurts out. 

_What?_

“Sorry?” Louis turns around with so much momentum he lands on top of Harry’s chest. By accident, of course. “Your what? With who?” 

“Ms. Daniels,” Harry snickers, “It was honestly kind of fucked up. She lowkey had it in for me for at least half the year, and then the second I turned eighteen...” 

“Now that’s devastating. She totally preyed on you,” Louis sputters in disbelief. “How was it?” 

“Meh,” Harry makes a face, which makes Louis guffaw. “Girls have like, all these folds and shit, and they get really slimy. No.” 

Louis snorts again, for like the fourth time tonight, “Folds. She turned you gay.” 

“Nah, I think I was just gay the whole time and then she made me realize I was just super fucking gay.” Harry shifts, looking a bit uncomfortable talking about it. “How about you? How was your first?” 

“Well,” Louis sighs, “It wasn’t that great. It was my best friend’s brother.”

“Scandalous.”

“Ha,” Louis grunts, shimmying off of Harry. “He was a freshman in college at the time and we’d been kind of hitting it off lowkey, not telling anyone obviously because he had a girlfriend that he ‘loved so much.’ He lasted like, thirty seconds and then didn’t even bother to drive me home afterwards.” 

Harry makes a sound of sorrow, “And here I thought you were going to have some crazy sex story.” 

“And what made you think that?” Louis reaches over and turns off the lamp light. For the ambience, of course. 

“You’re so obsessed with sex,” Harry takes a deep breath in and lets it out in such a way that makes the hairs on Louis’ neck rise. “It’s all you’ve been focused on this entire night.”

“Not true,” Louis feebly argues, but it was kind of true. “I’ve just been deprived.”

Harry nods, “Yeah, I get that.”

“You have an ex too, then?” Louis wants so desperately to rake his fingers through Harry’s hair. He wants to pull on his bottom lip with his thumb, run his hands all over Harry’s body. Overwhelm him. 

“Yeah. Broke up right before I made president. He’s a finance bro.” Harry makes a petulant face, “Can’t believe I dated a finance bro.” 

“Was he out?” Louis asks, fighting the urge to jump him. 

“Of course not.” 

Louis can’t take it anymore, “What will _we_ be tomorrow?” It comes off a little aggressive, which makes him cringe, but he just has to know where on Earth this is going. 

“I don’t know what we’ll be tomorrow. We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” 

  
  


Harry has no fucking clue why he said that. It’s now solidly five in the morning and he still can’t sleep. Louis knocked out around three hours ago and was now sleeping comfortably by his side, still clutching onto the blanket like a lost child. Gosh, it was so hard trying to not just grab him and pull him in for a cuddle, but that would definitely be crossing too many lines (as if lines haven’t been crossed already). 

He’s an angel, obviously. His eyelashes rest on his cheeks, his breath tickles the hairs on Harry’s arm, and every now and then, there’s a slight whistle from his nose and it makes Harry smile from ear to ear. He’s been so distracted he’s totally forgot about how he’s supposed to wake everyone up at ten in the morning so that they could all clean the house before the official inspection. 

This boy is definitely going to change his plans this year, that’s for sure. 

He decides in the moment to rest his head on top of Louis’ head, crossing a huge line, making sure that they weren’t touching in any other way except for that. The effect is instant: Harry’s eyes drop like they’re dead and he’s transported into dream land. 

The alarm wakes him up two hours later, the sound punctuated with extreme exhaustion and an itching need for a triple shot espresso. However, he only really bothers to turn it off once Louis stirs beside him, wiggling uncomfortably as though he just noticed the surplus of body heat surrounding his own. “Mmmrngh?”

“Good morning,” Harry chokes out, leaping off the bed and rushing to kill his phone--absolutely destroy it for botherin’ the angel in his bed. _In his bed._ “Um...I’m going to shower.”

“Mmmmmrngh,” 

“Good talk.” 

He jacks another one off onto the wall, this time way faster because of his exhaustion. The white spots don’t go away for what feels like forever as he begins the communal coffee and starts throwing cans and cups into trash bags despite the ringing in his head screaming for him to stop. 

“Morning,” The first offender stumbles out of their room, then another, and another. “Fuuuuuck.” 

“Shut up and grab a bag,” Harry groans, understanding their pain. 

“You kind of look like shit, prez,” Liam comments, looking fresh as a daisy. “Did you forget to eat some bread and water before bed?”

“Listen,” Harry leans his head against the counter so that the marble could cool down his temperature. “Don’t fuck with me right now. I had a long night.” 

“Tell me about it,” Liam sighs happily, like an asshole. “Zayn rode me, like three times.”

“Jesus Christ, use protection. Don’t trust an artist.” 

“Or a musician,” Liam points out, “Y’know, Louis Tomlinson’s a musician.” 

Harry lifts his heavy head in contemplation. “Well, shit.” He slams it back down. 

“You didn’t know that? Didn’t know you were such a slut, pres, thought you’d at least do your research.” 

“That’s it,” Harry weakly swings his half filled trash bag at Liam. “All bags to Payne. Everyone else just either vacuum, mop, or hose down the backyard. Someone call the pool cleaners.” 

“Don’t vacuum until Zayn’s up, or else I’ll fucking knock you into the wall,” Liam calls out in a loud voice, making everyone else groan and hold their heads. “That being said, prez, the bathroom’s fucking disgusting.”

“I’m on it. I better not see even a fucking bottlecap by the time I come back down, Payne,” Harry slaps his vice president’s back before bounding up the stairs. He cheekily removes all the reserved laundry hampers for the day, doing his own wash. He hasn’t even considered what Louis will want to do when he wakes up. 

“Good morning,” A voice makes Harry jump. “Ah fuck, I feel fucking awful.”

“Good morning,” Harry’s voice shudders. “You look terrible.” 

“Most of it is the joggers,” Louis jokes, trying to blindly fix his hair and flashing Harry an honest to god _rude_ smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” 

This was so weird. 

“So, I was going to go brush my teeth, but I don’t remember which one was mine…” Louis sighs, rubbing his feet on the sides of his shins. “Can you help me?”

Probably not. If Harry remembers correctly, when Louis was brushing his teeth he was jerking off to him and most definitely did not pay enough attention to where his toothbrush went. Nevertheless, he quickly finishes up setting the machine to the appropriate settings and chases after Louis. 

“Just use a new one,” Is what he says right when they get to the bathroom and are met with a countless number of freshly-used toothbrushes and tubes of toothpaste spurted everywhere. “Sorry, it’s so disgusting.” 

“It’s alright.” Louis shrugs and deals with it, which was kind of attractive. He’s so adaptive. 

**_Ch4: Stripper booty with a rack like wow…fuck me good, fuck me long, fuck me numb_ **

Harry rushing to meet his every need was seriously freaking Louis out. His heart was beating a million miles a minute, and every bone in his body was creaking against his joints, protesting the level of cool he was trying to exude. “Can I take a shower?” 

“Of course,” Harry answers, then points to a specific shower caddy hanging on the highest shelf. “You can use my stuff.” 

It’s terrible. The heat rising behind his cheeks is so embarrassing. “Uh, I don’t think I can reach it…”

“Oh, shit. Here,” Harry calmly gets on his tiptoes and grabs it for him. “Uh, be careful with the face wash. It’s medicated, but…” He then reaches even farther, making his shirt ride up to just above the v-line, “Liam’s isn’t. Happy washing.”

“Happy washing,” Louis parrots, but only because he had nothing else in his brain to respond with. Once Harry leaves, he strips down and yanks the water on, thankfully still hot from a previous user, and aggressively washes at his hair and body with the scent of Harry fuming up the humid room. Glorious. It was glorious. 

Harry doesn't use cedarwood for his laundry detergent, Louis realizes. It’s in his body wash, his shampoo, and of course the matching conditioner. It clears his sinuses like nothing else and quite literally makes his skin feel cool and breezy. 

Louis’ going to fuck Harry today. That is the goal. 

He steps out of the shower and walks right back into Harry’s room, where he’s doing push-ups with a motivational podcast turned on. This is typically a red flag, but Louis shakes it off and drops the towel. 

The sound of it thudding makes Harry stop mid push-up and turn around slowly, almost like he’s frightened of what’s standing in his doorway. “Uh, holy shit?”

“Yeah,” Louis is shaking, but shuts the door anyways and walks towards him. “I think I’m sober now.” 

“It’s ten in the morning,” Harry sputters, rolling over onto his back and sitting up. “Um, I have responsibilities.”

Louis plops down, buck ass nude, and leans forward to knock their foreheads together. “Shirk them.”

“Yes, I will do that,” Harry doesn’t even try to resist after a literal second, wrapping his arms around Louis and hauling the both of them up in one clean swoop. “Um, wow. Did not expect this to happen.”

“You don’t want it to happen?” Insecurity rages up Louis’ body like the pain of a festering wound. “I can, I can leave--”

“No, don’t leave, sugar.” 

Louis closes his eyes and hides his smile in Harry’s shoulder. “What kind of responsibilities?”

“Forget I ever mentioned it,” Harry plops Louis onto the bed and crawls over him, but not before relieving his shirt of its duty. “Seriously, forget I ever, ever mentioned anything. Turn over.” 

Louis squirms and stares right into Harry’s eyes, “Tell me. You have a test in an hour?” 

“No,” Harry makes a motion with his head all, _turn over so I can wreck you._ He’s breathing heavily, the movement of his lungs very apparent in his lean figure. “I don’t. In fact, I can even make Liam handle the inspection of the house.” His hands softly land on Louis’ sides and begin to caress up and down. They’re warm, large, and overwhelming, so Louis quickly shakes his head and yanks Harry’s head down closer. 

“But that’s at five. We’re doing this until five?” Louis asks, gasping when Harry cuts off his next thought with his lips pressing into his. “Oh, gosh. Didn’t expect that.” 

“Well, fuck, sugar.” Harry frowns, looking childishly upset. “You walk in here _all_ naked and sit _all_ up on my lap and get _all_ surprised when I’m _all_ over you?” He turns his head and kisses up Louis’ neck. 

“I don’t think my ass can handle a seven hour fuck,” Louis squeaks when he’s turned over and his hips are lifted off the ground. “Wait!” 

Harry immediately quells all actions, even his breathing. “You okay?” 

“Uh,” Louis stammers, uncomfortably trying to dissociate. “I don’t really...uh,” 

“Please tell me,” Harry sits back onto his heels and patiently rubs a hand over the back of Louis’ thigh. “If you want to stop, we’ll stop. It’s absolutely okay.” 

“I don’t want to stop...stupid,” Louis blushes and fiercely knocks his forehead onto his arms, much to Harry’s puzzlement. “I really don— _trust me,_ I don’t want to stop. I just don’t really…” 

“Sugar,” Harry instigates in a lower, calming tone. “I’m going to stop.”

“I don’t like it faced this way,” Louis blurts, embarrassed beyond belief. “I like being able to see...or whatever. Yeah.” 

Harry sighs, running a beautifully large hand through his hair, “That’s all? Gosh, I was so scared for a second.” He turns Louis again and settles himself in between his thighs. “How’s this?” 

Oh god, somehow worse? Now he can’t escape—jesus, why’d he ever even mention it. Louis dodges Harry’s gaze, which results in the petulant expression that starts chasing his eyeline. “Oh sweet jesus, don’t look at me.” 

“Why not?” Harry brushes their noses together, holy fuck. “Am I that ugly?” He lets his weight lean more onto Louis’ body, gently pressing him down into the mattress. “Can I please kiss you?” 

“Sure, buddy, but don’t stare me down,” Louis tries to scoff, but it comes out sounding like an unresolved choke. “You’re so...hard.” 

“I am,” Harry grins, pressing their lips together. One hand comes up to grip at Louis’ face securely, the other gripping the pillow underneath his head. Harry comes back up for air, “Let’s have sex? Like this?”

Louis responds by wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist and gripping onto his biceps. “Yes, please.” 

“So pretty,” Harry groans, as if the effect was instantaneous. The hand gripping the pillow promptly ducks down to take his cock out of his joggers, then reaching lower to Louis’ perineum and beyond. “And your skin is so soft.” 

Louis’ convinced this man is a god. “Thank you, oh—“ 

Harry looks up, watching his expressions as a finger softly touches his rim. “This okay?” 

“Yes,” He squeaks. 

“I’m going to—wait, yeah I’m gonna stretch you out, alright, sugar?” Harry kisses his thigh without ever breaking eye contact. He’s still got one hand holding Louis’ face, so it’s not like he can do much else but nod and suppress a whine threatening to leap out from his teeth. “Oh, you’re okay, baby.” He consoles as he reaches for the bottle of lube underneath the bed. 

Louis’ got no idea why Harry’s talking him through it—but it’s hot and he can’t help but duck down and take his thumb into his mouth. “Please,”

“Fuck,” drawls Harry, looking incredibly conflicted as to which end to focus on. “Keep doing that, baby.” He apparently elects to push Louis’ hips down more and insert another finger into his hole. 

Louis moans and tries to wiggle, but Harry’s one hand has got the grip and strength to keep him completely still. He clenches reflexively, making Harry grumble low in his chest. Then another finger swiftly enters him, stretching him out slowly. He pops off the thumb to say, “Hurry up, or else I’ll get up and leave.” 

“What?” Harry frowns, and he _nearly_ looks pissed. “Jesus, I can’t read you.” 

_I can’t read you either._

“If I’m not going fast enough for you, sugar,” Harry squirts cold lube right onto Louis’ ass and grins when he jerks. “Let’s speed this up.” He lurches forward and captures Louis’ lips in another kiss, this time, deeper and unrelenting. 

Louis’ eyes have to shut and his hands start squeezing at Harry’s body, desperately clawing for more and less at the same time. He doesn’t even know it, but he’s making soft noises and pants into Harry’s ear. 

  
  


Louis is doing things to him, bless his heart. His hair smells like his own shampoo, his small hands trying to push and pull at him like he can’t even help himself. Harry loves it. He’s going to treat him so well—if Louis allows him to, of course. 

Although he doesn’t want to, he breaks the kiss they were having in order to reach down and grab a condom, smiling softly at Louis’ fucked out expression and body language. His body is now just spread out, willing and ready for whatever Harry wants to do for him. 

“I’m gonna put it in now, sugar. You okay?” Harry whispers softly into Louis’ ear, making him wiggle before a minuscule “Yes please” is given to him in response. Harry breathes deeply, looking down to make sure he can fucking see what he’s doing, when he realizes that his hand is shaking. 

Yeah, the hand gripping onto his angry red dick is shaking from excitement or anticipation or whatever. He gently directs it to Louis’ hole and pushes in, watching as Louis’ legs get kicked up and he feels hands rubbing all over his torso again. 

It’s although he’s making a trail, dipping valleys into Harry’s skin and marking pathways for travelers, scrunching at his biceps like he’s going to send rain, and smoothing deserts on his chest. “You...you wanna hold hands?” 

Louis preens at the idea, intertwining their fingers and then holding on so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Harry thinks it looks like snowy mountains, but maybe that’s a little too much poetry to be focused on right now. “Feel good?” He asks meanly just as he roughly throws Louis halfway up the bed, eliciting a yelp and a pout. 

“Yeah, feels so good,” Louis pants, looking nervous and blissed out all at once. “Go faster,” He digs his heel into Harry’s side, and what else can he do but comply? 

Their skin begins to sweat, making the friction against Louis and the bedsheets rougher and the whole room fill up with hot air. Harry feels this heat in his legs, where he’s using that leverage to prop Louis’ hips up higher and thrust deeper. 

He’s admittedly being a little rough, but they don’t even know each other. He’s got no business being all soft and sweet like he was ten minutes ago. With his eyes laser focused on the slapping of Louis’ dick against his stomach, he nearly lets the shriek Louis emits go over his head. 

Harry’s eyes snap up and his free hand comfortingly reaches over to brush the tear off of Louis’ cheek. “Feel good?” He needs to keep asking, he needs to make this better and better so that maybe Louis won’t leave— 

“So fucking good,” Louis grunts, his hair sticking to his face and large droplets hanging off his chin. “Fuck. Fuck me.” 

“I am, sugar,” Harry bites out, yanking Louis’ hips back onto his pelvis harder. The sweat has now gone into his eyes, so he can’t really see except just the constant motion of a body slamming onto his own. Every breath feels like a challenge at this point, with the bed rocking into the walls and even knocking down onto the ground, but thinking about how his brothers will make fun of him will totally fuck up his rhythm right now. 

“I’m close,” Louis whines out, and it’s total heaven to his ears. Harry sighs in relief, almost, furiously wiping the sweat out of his eyes and continuing to pound him downwards, the slapping of skin making every noise and touch feel louder within him. He feels like he’s been going for at least thirty minutes, but it’s probably only been about five or ten. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Then come,” The timbre of his own voice surprises him so much Harry nearly stops in his tracks. Instead, he lets go of the hand that was holding Louis’ and uses it to stroke at the latter’s cock, receiving squeezes around his own and loud whimpers because of it. “Come, sugar.”

“Fuck,” Louis screams, scrunching up his face and hitting at Harry’s biceps, streams of white flowing up onto his pretty chest. Louis jerks around, eyes rolled back. 

Harry just sort of watches for a moment, on the verge of coming himself, but staying as still as he can just to soak in the sight. When Louis’ chest no longer heaves and his hands begin to reach out for him, Harry leans forward, locks Louis’ face close, and jackhammers as fast as he can into him. 

Louis goes with it, even though he must be so fucking sensitive, holding onto Harry’s face and whispering a solemn, “Kiss me.” 

It’s haunting, right. Suddenly, a gust of wind enters through the cracked window, making the dust on the floor dance and the empty imprint of a lube bottle underneath the bed disappear. A sheen of light hones in on one floorboard, then as the minute passes, a centimeter above it. Time is slowed, and suddenly seconds become the rhythm that Louis squeezes his thighs around Harry’s middle, the hands holding his hair back as they press their faces back and forth. With his focus entirely on how he can’t bear to separate his lips from Louis’, the stilling of his hips and his release nearly go right over his head. 

Louis seems to agree, with the way he starts making noises of contentedness and smoothing his hands over his back. “Holy shit.” 

“Yeah,” Harry gruffly lands on Louis’ shoulder and catches his breath. Outside, there are loud cheers and yells, probably because this was the loudest he’d ever been taking a boy back to his room. And in the morning. What time was it? 

Eleven-thirty. Wow. 

“Be gentle,” Louis snickers when Harry moves to pull out, but the both of them wince at the sensitivity of doing so. “Wow, that was…”

“Good,” Harry chokes out, his heart still beating a million miles a minute even after ample time to cool down. At this rate, he might go into cardiac arrest, but there’s no way he’ll sacrifice the chance to play it cool in front of this absolute angel. “S’good.” 

Louis goes silent, then nods. “Good.” 

“I have a,” Louis stands up just as Harry was about to pull him back in for a cuddle. He retracts his arm quickly when the former turns around. “I think I have a lecture.”

  
  


Amused, Harry smiles and plops back down onto the mattress. So carefree. “You think?”

“I mean,” Louis’ face is still burning, god. “This was...this was good. I don’t know if I can face everyone out there.”

Harry stares up at the ceiling. “You’re leaving, then?”

Louis bites his lip and nods, knees wobbly. In fact, he doesn’t even know if he can make it out the door. “I think I may have overstayed my welcome.” 

Harry jumps up and cocks his head, “What makes you think that?” He stands up, still naked and overpoweringly beautiful, then walks towards him. “I really hope I haven’t sent any mixed signals.”

_Well._

“You haven’t,” Louis reassures, shaking his head. He’s a little chilly, and it feels like Harry notices because he reaches down and covers him with a blanket from the floor. “I mean...what kind of signals?”

“Any-any kind, really.” Harry looks just as confused as Louis is, awkwardly stepping on each other’s toes. All Louis wants to do is yank Harry in for an embrace and take deep breaths of his skin, as if that isn’t weird at all. “What kind of signals would you like me to send you?”

Louis bites his lip before looking up, then looks right back down. “I’m not sure. Wha—what kind of signals should I be sending _you?_

“I admittedly have never done this before,” Harry sheepishly ruffles his own hair. Louis’ eyes widen comically and a hand flies up to cover his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve never...you’re _actually_ a virgin?” Louis groans into his hand, shaking his head and shutting his eyes. 

“No, I am not a virgin-I’ve had sex before,” Harry says loudly, sighing. “I’ve never...done this the opposite way ‘round.” 

Louis looks up at him inquisitively. “What does that mean?”

“Y’know, like...meet a stranger and then sleep together but not sleep together sleep together and then...sleep together in the morning.” Harry looks extremely embarrassed the second he says it. “Oh, cheese and crackers.”

“Well in that case, I’ve never done this before either. Maybe someone wrote a manual,” Louis shrugs, and it makes Harry bark out a laugh. “How about...we just see each other around?”

Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say, judging by how the glimmer in Harry’s eye fades. “Sure, yeah. For sure.” 

Louis moves towards the door, still holding the blanket up and around himself. Right before he reaches for the doorknob, he stops and laughs to himself. “Uh, do you know what happened to my clothes?” 

“Oh, you can,” Harry scrambles around in his closet and hands Louis a set of pants and a sweater. “You can just borrow these and give them back next time.” 

“Alright,” Louis blushes at the insinuation of a next time, shyly taking the offer. This is probably the third set of clothes he’s borrowed from Harry, and now he’s about to do the walk of shame smelling and looking like him. “Hey.” 

Harry breathes in, “Yeah?”

Louis steps forward and connects their lips together one last time. “Nice to meet you.” He smiles, prompting Harry to also break out into one, then he swiftly opens the door and scurries away. 

**_Ch5: Trip down the hill, strawberry fields…_ **

r/GraysonU - Posted by ltomlinson34578 2 hours ago 

**Uh—I kinda met a guy or somethin somethin…**

Hi y’all, just wanted to come on here to let everyone know that I got fucked sooooo good last week

Louis slaps himself in the face—no, he can’t say that!

**Uh—I kinda met a guy or somethin somethin…**

Met a hot daddy last week and he churned up my insid—

No, he _definitely_ can’t say that. Does he actually need to say anything, tell Reddit about his woes of feeling like he didn’t deserve this spectacular dick down? No. The answer is no. However, he does feel like he owes it to his supporters who have been following his sad tale for a while. 

**Uh—I kinda met a guy or somethin somethin…**

And he won’t stop texting me, despite me not giving him his number he somehow managed to find it and text me. Three times in the last week. I don’t know how to answer him—

“Lou,” Zayn sing-songs as he sashays his way into the room. “I’m kind of hungry.” 

“Yeah, what’re you feeling?” Louis directs the laptop screen away from him. 

Zayn furrows his eyebrows, but continues, “Dunno, prolly a pizza or something.” 

“Eh,” Louis makes a face. “I was thinking Thai.” 

“Good, that’s good,” Zayn yawns happily as he stretches out on Louis’ mattress. “You’ll order, then? I’ll Venmo you. What’re you writing?” 

“Nothing,” Louis says too quickly, cringing at himself. “Seriously, it’s nothing.” 

“You’re on the subreddit,” Zayn guffaws, giving Louis’ shoulder a light push. “The only people who do that are people who have hit lists, Lou.” 

Louis shrugs it off, “Maybe I have one.” 

“No one would dare kill Witt, Lou.” 

“I mean,” Louis turns to him, “If I offer to pay with hummers, maybe.” He fails to ignore Zayn’s face once it leaves his mouth, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” 

“Ha-ha, doesn’t sound like you’re kidding. You know Lou, if you keep writing those posts one day they’re going to bite you in the ass.” 

“I don’t believe you. Witt’s had plenty of toys, no one’s gonna find out it’s me.” 

  
  


“So what is the,” The professor pauses as the chalk clacks against the board. “Big. Picture?” He turns around to a room full of blank faces. “Seriously? No takers?” 

Harry feels a hand on top of his, to which he looks up at the face attached to said hand. He’d been tapping his fingers against the desk all day and Liam finally had enough. It takes a _while_ to get Liam to crack, so Harry’s eyebrows lift in surprise. 

“Sorry.” He drops his pen and folds his hands on his lap. He begins to bite the inside of his cheek to compensate, which is met with a loving push at his face from his friend. 

“Stop doing that,” Liam whispers, shaking his head. “Focus, or I’m gonna throw a fit. Our midterm’s in a week.”

Who cares about what monetary decisions governments make? Harry thinks to himself, his face scrunching up the more irritated he becomes. It’s awful, really. Because _he_ cares. He’s that guy. Suddenly, all he can think about is when the phone’s going to buzz and he can finally put his thumbs to their rightful use. (Up Louis’ ass, but we’re getting way ahead of ourselves.) 

Once the lecture is finally over, Liam claps his back and runs off to his next class while Harry gets to go back to the house for the day. On the way there, though, he’s interrupted by the flash of a very recognizable ass pacing the front porch. Nah, it can’t be. 

He calls out a bit aggressively, “Louis?” Then speeds up his pace, just in time for Louis to notice and instinctively back up wide eyed. “Hi!” 

“Hi!” Louis returns the shit eating smile Harry has to be giving him, “Uh, here are your clothes back. Sorry that I couldn’t get them here sooner, I recently just got a new roommate and had to use all my quarters at the laundromat for his sheets and shit.” 

“It’s alright,” Harry takes then gently, so giddy inside he could burst out cackling. “Do you want to come in?” 

“You don’t have another class?” Louis asks cautiously, then visibly brightens when Harry shakes his head. “Sweet. Let’s go eat something, then.” 

“I’m so down,” Harry practically throws his belongings onto the couch before patting himself down to his pockets. “I’ll buy.” 

Louis snorts at his eagerness before clicking his tongue. “I think I can pay for myself, you know.” 

“I just wanna buy you lunch,” Harry shrugs, bumping his shoulder with Louis’ as they head back to the courtyard. “You can buy next time.” 

“What would you like to eat, then?” Louis asks, blinking slowly and purposefully, as if they were in a cartoon. “We can go to the dining hall, pick up some sandwiches?” 

Harry crinkles his nose without even meaning to, “I don’t really like sandwiches.” 

Louis’ jaw drops, unsurprisingly. “What? What do you mean you don’t like sandwiches?” He exclaims loudly, a bit too loudly for Harry’s comfort. 

“Shush,” Harry scolds, then gets hit with a powerful whiff of whatever it was that Louis was wearing. “Is that...strawberry?” 

“Yeah!” Louis seems ecstatic that Harry recognized it. “My sister got it for me for Christmas, it’s like strawberry shortcake or something like that. Too strong?” He looks a bit insecure about it for like two seconds, then shrugs it off before Harry can answer no. It should be stronger. “Why don’t you like sandwiches?” 

“Too much between too much trying to fit in something not that big,” Harry shrugs, then smirks when Louis waggles his eyebrows at him. “God, I walked right into that one.”

“No, I didn’t even have to set anything up, you paced that road yourself,” Louis leaps forward and kicks a rock. “So you don’t like burgers either?” 

“Love burgers. I can squish those down,” Harry catches up. “We should get salads,” 

“Burrito bowls,” Louis suggests instead, “Then it’s like a sandwich and a salad.” 

“Not really, but,” Harry doesn’t even finish his sentence. He’d go anywhere with Louis. 

“What are your hobbies?” Louis asks while holding the restaurant door open. “Other than being the president of a frat and counting the money hidden in your mattress?” 

“I told you, I ain’t rich,” Harry shakes his head. “Who told you that anyways?” 

“The only people who can afford to be in a frat at this place are rich.” Louis explains his reasoning, “That’s why I dated a guy who was in a frat, because then it was my obligation to be a little brat.” 

“Hm. We’re middle class. My mom’s a teacher, dad’s works for a tech company.” 

“As the COO?” Louis points at something on the menu and Harry shows the cashier, holding up two fingers. 

“No, as an IT guy,” Harry pulls the chair open for Louis and motions for him to sit. “This is the weirdest first date I’ve ever been on.” 

“Please, as if you’ve never taken a boy out to McDonald’s after a quickie.” 

“Well sure, but this is weird because of its context. I think I like you, like a lot.” 

Louis freezes and slowly looks up. “It hasn't been that long.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything yet. But...I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I met you,” Harry pivots his feet and lands ungraciously in his chair. “If you tell me you’ve felt nothing, at this point I honestly think it would break me.” 

With his hand, Louis softly moves a piece of hair from Harry’s face to behind his ear. “I have a feeling you’re going to change my plans.” 

Etch in the widest, unmistakably delighted grin. “I’m happy to reroute.” 

  
_(Later)_

“You eat like a princess,” Louis comments, as if this isn’t their millionth (hyperbole!) date and he could’ve said something sooner while they were still at the “flirty insult” stage. “Throw your pinky up, why don’t you?” 

“You’ve seen me eat like twenty times and you didn’t think to make fun of me sooner? You eat like wolves raised you,” Harry sneers, then bumps his nose with Louis’. “Fake,” He drags out.

“How was your midterm?” Louis looks down and bashfully stabs at his butter lettuce. “I heard the prof nearly had an aneurysm from the last one. You were the only one who passed.” 

“I don’t like how you have eyes and ears all over this place,” Harry says, “It went fine. I’m pretty sure Liam passed this one with me as well, if you care. How was your midterm?” 

“I can play the violin just as well as I could last week, thank you, baby.” Louis chokes up at the last word. “I—I mean.” 

“You’re welcome, baby.” Harry acts unaffected, then takes a disgustingly large bite of his pasta so uncharacteristically messily that he gets sauce on the far reaches of his cheeks. “Don’t act like you haven’t called me worse.” 

“ _Sugar_ ,” Louis giggles, bumping shoulders with him. “I’d like to see you more often.” 

“Well thank god, since it’s _only_ been four months. Let’s go have sex at my place,” Harry says loudly, so loudly that even Louis feels shy. “See? I’m changing too. I’m dangerous as well, I can do your taxes with my eyes closed and run away with the refund.” 

“I don't even know what that means, but...no one ever tell you that you shouldn’t trust a musician?” Louis narrows his eyes. “How can you be sure I’m not just stringing you along as my readily available dick appointment and these meetings are just to solidify how much of a simp you are for me?” 

Harry wipes his mouth, folds the napkin so he can wipe Louis’, then leans forward and kisses him. “You’re just as much of a simp for me as I am for you. Next week, we’re seeing each other two times. Not just for lunch; dinner. At a nice place, where I can see you under some pretty lights.” 

Fuck. _Fuck._

“You say that to everyone you see?” Louis grits out, gripping his fork tightly in his hand. He isn’t tense because he’s jealous...more or less just a tsunami of insecurity filling up his lungs. “How many guys are you seeing at the same time as me? How many girls?” 

Harry sighs, “Only you, sugar. You’re enough to get me so high I can’t think straight. It’s like nothing else in this entire world to be falling for someone who smells like artificial strawberries.” 

“Yeah? You think that hurts me? Says the guy who constantly smells of Vaporub and trees,” Louis mockingly pinches his own nose and fans it with his other hand. “The things I have to endure. The grievances, Harry.” They both laugh at that and then continue with their food, Louis’ less able to go down as the seconds pass. “So, I have a concert soon. In two months or.” 

Harry clicks his tongue, “You didn’t mention that sooner? Considering concerts take a long ass time to get ready for?”

Louis thanks him when he stands up to throw away the trash. “I didn’t know if you’d be cool with coming to some lame orchestra. I didn’t even know if we were still going to be seeing each other when it rolled around, y’know? I feel like it's different now.” 

Harry’s eyes glimmer, maybe he’s about to cry. Louis wouldn’t know. He’s never been around people who cried nor was he much of a crier himself. Seeing someone get so affected though, the _visible art of it,_ it was magnetizing. “Are you crying?” He asks dumbly, reaching out to swoop a finger under Harry’s eye. 

Harry defiantly shakes his head, “No, I’m not. I’m just practicing for when the big day arrives. How’s my applause?” He claps, “What should I wear?” 

_God, he’s so perfect. Thank you for bringing him to me. That is, if I’ve forgiven you yet for the other stuff._

“Something nice, but not too nice. In between a hoodie and a tuxedo.” 

“That’s unfathomably unhelpful.” 

r/GraysonU - Posted by ltomlinson34578 30 minutes ago 

**I think I’m falling in love and I haven’t told him the truth yet about who I am.**

This entire time, I’ve led him on. The guy I’ve been seeing? Tall, dark, handsome, smart? Worth something, that guy? It feels like he’s told me about his entire life and a half, whereas I am still afraid to open up about how broken I am from the last frat boy I dated. I know better: he’s different! So incredibly different and wonderful, in all the ways a person can be. But sometimes, I feel like I can see parts of my ex in him, the parts that go “Aw shit, I forgot that meeting was today.” and then for a moment I don’t know if it’s just a meeting or...something else. The moments where he runs into a brother while walking with me and in the corner of my eye I can see them gesturing to me with their eyes and having that silent language of ‘nice catch.’ The moments where I’ve been holding back telling him parts about myself that my ex thought were less than ideal. Classical music, D&D, how I took a coding class and I actually really enjoyed it. It’s such a misdirect every time I eventually succumb to the almost-guilt and he just accepts it. He even understands that most of my insults are meant as folly. 

I’m scared to be so in love with him because he’s just so fucking perfect and he just gets it. SOS: PLEASE SEND HELP. 

34 Upvotes - Posted by u/taylormadeforu777 30 minutes ago 

Oh honey, it sounds like you really like him. Give him a better chance than the one with all this doubt you’re already planting in a SUBREDDIT. 

20 Upvotes - Posted by u/beentheredonethat666 2 hours ago 

Aren’t you scared about him seeing these? 

**_Ch6: It’s just, I’m constantly on the cusp of tryin’ to kiss you…_ ** _(It's Later Now.)_

“Hey, I brought burrito bowls,” Harry says with the biggest shin eating grin Louis’ ever seen. He’s definitely so pleased with him after essentially conning his way into Louis’ apartment. “How is my sugarcane?” 

“Oh, ew,” Louis cringes, but still accepts the sweet kiss to the cheek. “You changed your cologne.” 

“I changed it a week ago and you just noticed?” Harry steps into his home and feigns hurt feelings by grabbing his heart. “Oh, sugarcane, giving me a heart attack,” He sings freely, causally throwing in a riff like it was a real song. “You make me hurt so bad,” 

“Shut up,” Louis sputters, in disbelief almost, like there just isn’t supposed to be _more_ than all that Harry already is. “Please, oh my god, cheese grater to my ears.” 

Harry takes off his coat and flings it like it’s his own goddamn house. “Dance with me, sugar.” 

“God,” Louis prays out loud, taking the food out of the bag and setting it down on the table. He can’t help the smile that emerges when Harry hugs him from behind. “You’re in a wonderful mood.” 

“It’s a wonderful day to feel wonderful,” Harry hmphs, but self indulgently as the wind tickles Louis’ ear. “How is practice going?” 

“It’s fine,” Louis grits out, part of that familiar guilt lifting through his diaphragm and choking up his throat, “Difficult as usual. The soloist keeps on showing up late.” 

“You should beat their ass up,” Harry shrugs, sitting down comfortably like this was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Helen Choi is a world renowned violinist,” Louis scoffs, “Plus, she’d win. I hope your tests went okay.” 

“They did, got A’s again. Prof paired me up with Liam for once and we got the best project score too. It’s a good feeling.” Harry sighs, switching their bowls. “You asked for tofu, right?” 

“Right,” Louis gulps, they begin eating. “So how have you been?” 

“Same as a few days ago when you last saw me,” Harry responds, looking happy and unbothered. Louis feels weird about it. “Why? How about you?” 

At that moment, a decision is made. “I’m okay; got a call from my sister.”

“Your sister?”

“Yeah, it was nice. She hadn’t talked to me since I left for school.” 

Harry’s eyelids flutter as he sets down his fork. “Oh, shit?”

Louis can’t help but smile at his concern and understanding, “Yeah, just to let me know she’s all grown up now and everyone’s doing okay back at home. Actually, maybe it was a little weird. Her voice sounded different. Older.”

Harry comes a bit closer just to move the hair out of Louis’ face, “You seem really on guard today, more so than usual.”

“Listen,” Louis moves Harry’s hand away, “Do you really like me?”

Harry scoffs, “Uh, yes?” He backs up and shrugs his shoulders, “Honestly, I feel like I like you more than you like me. I don’t get what’s going on here. It feels like every time I see you I’m being faced with a different person.” 

Louis sags in his seat, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Woah woah woah,” Harry reaches out to hold him up, “Gosh, sugar, what’s wrong? One of the perks of dating someone is that you can tell them anythin’,”

“I just,” Louis’ lips tremble, “I feel like we’re so different.”

“True,” Harry doesn’t deny it, “Is that that bad?”

Louis feels wetness cooling lines down his cheeks, “Shit, I guess not. I’m not very smart, alright, I could only afford this shit because I play for the chairman. You know, play, like, play.”

Harry looks confused. “Pardon?”

“Oh, I mean I don’t _fuck_ him, fuck-worded that wrong, good job Louis-”

“Just calm down,”

“You’re a frat boy!” Louis all of a sudden shouts, in a very non-threatening manner, but still shouts nonetheless. “How could I-How could I fall in love with a frat boy?”

“You’re in love with-what do you mean? You’ve done it before,” Harry places his hands on his hips and his eyelids keep on fluttering. “Where is all of this coming from, seriously?”

“You’re like, nice to me and shit, but how am I supposed to know you’re not just talking shit behind my back to whoever; Liam, maybe?” Louis gets up and moves to the couch, hugging himself. All of this feels intensely wrong. 

Harry tails him and sits right next to him, so close that the sides of their thighs are touching. “I dunno, trust?” He angles his head so that he could see Louis’ face, try and read him. “Trust? Do you trust me?”

Louis whimpers when Harry reaches forward to wipe his tears away, “I guess I do. I’m falling in love with you. It scares the fuck out of me, like every atom of my being _scared_ , like I’m playing at my first recital _scared_ , like I’m trying molly for the first time _scared_ ,” He lunges forward and hugs Harry’s neck, burying his nose into his shoulder. “Like I have no choice but to let you drive me home _scared_.” 

Harry kisses Louis’ face gently as he rubs his back, trying to quell the heaving his lungs have to do as Louis sobs into Harry’s body. Every tear feels like a gift to Harry, as though someone was opening a door. “Listen to me.”

“Mmkay,”

“I know Witt hurt you real bad, and I know you’ve been hurt real bad just in general. This is shit even idiots know. I’m not going to pull any fuckshit. I’m not!” He squeezes Louis’ nose when he flashes a face of annoyance. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to trust me, because I know it doesn’t work like that. But I trust you, right? We’ll go from there. I trust you. With a lot, maybe. Enough to fuel all kinds of fuckshit you can pull at me, but I know you won’t. That’s what companionship is.” 

Louis sniffles, but nods. 

  
  


“Do you want to kiss?” Harry asks, trying to make his voice as soft as possible. He also feels like he’s caging Louis in, so he leans back and opens the space up between them. The reaction he gets melts his heart, Louis chasing after him and leaning his face up, nodding while biting the inside of his cheek. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis whispers, gripping Harry’s shirt in between his fingers. “You trust me?”

“Of course I do,” Harry says without hesitation, because he was already planning to say it before Louis was planning to ask. They hold each other for a few more moments before Harry ducks his head and plants one on Louis. Although, he doesn’t really pull back. 

It’s met with some kinda praise, for sure. Louis pushes and moves himself so that he’s got one leg on either side of Harry’s waist, holding the sides of Harry’s face with bits of his hair tickling his temples. Shit. 

Harry moves so that his hands rest on Louis’ ass, gently squeezing whenever Louis’ tongue starts doing magical things, slowly rocking their bodies against each other like water in a pot slowly coming up to a boil. Slowly, slower, the slowest it can go. It isn’t the flame that’s changing. The pot is. 

After a while, they both decide that they’re done with whatever they’re doing, switching pots and moving water about, nurturing the flame in between them, Harry leaning and leaning until he’s got Louis on his back so pretty. “We’re going to have sex,” He starts, but really curls it up into half of a question, and when Louis gives him a look of, ‘well no fucking shit,’ he continues, now having one of his hands crawl up underneath Louis’ shirt to his chest. 

And maybe it was how soft Louis’ lips were, or something addicting in the chapstick he neurotically uses every minute, but…god. “God,” 

“Yeah,” Louis wipes the edges of Harry’s lips while pouting, “I got Carmax all over you. Does it burn?” 

Harry flashes him a dopey grin, “Kinda.” 

“Freak,” Louis laughs, hitting him lightly. “Weird, I kind of want you closer, but you’re already as close as can be. I just wanna eat you up, maybe. Like in a Megan Fox kind of way.” 

“You’re hotter than Megan Fox,” Harry blubbers, eyes rolling back as Louis softly kitten licks up his neck. 

“Baby, that’s the nicest compliment a boy can receive.” Louis laughs, then pushes Harry’s head back down towards him, pushing up his hips and practically inviting Harry’s thigh to slip in between, grinding and rubbing against each other like two stray cats cuddling for warmth. “Shit, take your goddamn pants off.” 

“Fucking finally, thought you’d never ask.” Louis groans, cooly unbuckling Harry’s belt for him and tugging the sides down with both hands. As the latter’s kicking the ends off, Louis shimmies out of his skinny jeans and underwear and attempts to cover himself up with his shirt. Harry’s cheeks are so red now just looking at him, cock angry and hard pressed up against his stomach. 

Harry takes the bottom edge of Louis’ shirt and grasps it gently with his fingers, slowly pulling upwards until Louis shakes his arms and head out, now fully bare.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry breathes out shakily, rubbing Louis’ torso. “Fuck, let me look at you, sugar. You wanna move to the bed?” 

“No,” Louis throws a forearm over his eyes, “My room’s messy.” 

“Aw, okay,” Harry gives him a loud smooch. “Spread your legs.” 

  
  


It takes another ten minutes before Harry finally finds a condom and Louis’ bottle of lube, eagerly scrambling back onto the couch where his legs were wide open and just waiting. When his cockhead pushes against him, Louis jerks and bites his lip, and he feels Harry’s eyes dart to look at his eyebrows. 

“Okay?” Harry whispers, offering an arm for Louis to hold onto. 

“Okay,” Louis squeezes his eyes shut and although well prepped, still feels like he’s falling as Harry impatiently shoves himself in. “Oh fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, already out of breath and the veins in his arms pulsing. “Hold onto me or somethin’,” He grits out before pulling back and shoving in again, making Louis’ head hit the armrest. 

“Ow!” Louis cries out, because shit, that _hurts!_ “Fuck!” He holds his head and watches Harry’s horrified expression morph that into extreme guilt, so he quickly forces himself to ignore the dancing of his brain to shove Harry back out of him. “I’m going to sit on you, you rough asshole.” 

“Sorry,” Harry pouts a little, and if it weren’t so damn cute Louis would slap it off his face. “Are you okay, sugar?” 

“Are you okay, sugar?” Louis mocks, pushing Harry’s shoulders down as he mounts him. He reaches behind and lines himself up before sinking down as fast as he can, panting and letting his toes curl against his will. “Oh shit, I’m gonna fall,” 

“No you’re not,” Harry shakes his head and grabs Louis’ waist. “Oh, fuck, you’re so tight. Shit.” 

“Shut up,” Louis groans, putting a hand over Harry’s mouth. He puts one leg up onto the back of the couch, using it as leverage to begin lifting himself up and down. The stretch and the pull is so rough, probably because Harry didn’t use enough lube for his liking, but the stupid prick’s cock is so big it probably wouldn’t have made a difference to use more anyways. 

After a couple of minutes, Louis’ arms are shaking, his face dripping sweat into his eyes and onto Harry’s body, getting hotter and wetter every slap his thighs made against his lover’s. Then, once his calves literally can’t take it anymore, he rocks back and forth slowly, taking the hand off Harry’s mouth to rest it against his shoulder. 

“Oh, god,” Harry whines, throwing his head back and showing off his long neck. “Sugar, please don’t squeeze. Be nice to me.” To Louis’ absolute shock, Harry punctuates the end of his sentence with a hard slap to his ass. “Oh _fuck_ , that made you squeeze.” 

“Harry,” Louis gasps, trembling. He’s positive his ears are red. “I don’t think I can—ah!” He squeals and jumps up when Harry slaps the other side. 

Harry’s looking at him with his eyes narrowed and sleepy, like he simultaneously can’t care less but can’t take his eyes off too. It’s too much; a lazer gaze. So Louis looks away. 

Dadd— _Harry_ doesn’t like that. He squeezes Louis’ love handle and commands, “Fucking get a move on, sugarcane. So lazy.” 

“Fuck you,” Louis sputters, petulantly squeezing and grinding. “God, I’m close.” He reaches down to get himself off, but Harry slaps his hand away. Louis looks up and whimpers at him. 

Harry’s eyes have gone dark, and a few pieces of hair have fallen in front of his face. It would’ve been scary if he was someone else, because Harry then sits up, bends his knees, and shoves Louis’ hips backward so that he was leaning back and completely powerless. 

Louis shrieks when his prostate is jabbed straight on, grasping at the couch. Harry, stronger than he looks, begins to bounce Louis up and down off him while ramming his hips up. 

Things are slowly becoming white, Louis’ hearing becoming fuzzy. He hears Harry whisper something intelligible right before Louis comes, tightening his thighs around Harry’s waist and screaming as his release hits both of their stomachs in three successive spurts. 

“Holy mother of god,” Harry breathes out in awe, shushing Louis and rubbing his sides as he shakes the rest of his orgasm out. “Sugar, shhh, baby.” 

Louis doesn’t know when he started crying, but as soon as his fists come up and rub at his eyes, he knows he’s a goner. God, Witt always hated when he cried during sex and refused to cuddle him afterwards because of it, and maybe Harry's the same. Maybe Harry thinks he’s lame now.

“Baby, are you okay?” Harry sounds panicked? “Too much? Oh fuck,” He feels himself being pulled close and the side of his face meets what feels like Harry’s chest. “Fuck, don’t worry, sugar, I got you.” Harry gently thumbs at Louis’ hole as he slowly pulls out, breathing in sharply probably in reaction to Louis wincing. 

“Felt good,” Louis manages to choke out, opening his eyes to see Harry leaning in and peppering his face with kisses. “I don’t think I can walk.” 

“Does your head still hurt?” 

Louis blinks at him in silence before barking out in laughter. “No, silly!” He kisses Harry’s tensed jaw. “Were you really worrying about that for the last fifteen minutes?” 

“Maybe,” Harry’s drawing circles on Louis’ back. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.” 

Louis hums like this is normal for him. Perhaps, he hums like it’s what he deserves. In many ways, the latter should be true. 

Another half hour of smooches go by before Harry looks at the clock and regretfully informs Louis he has to go. “Hey, there’s a party happening this Friday and I want you to come as my babe.” 

“Okay, honey baby,” Louis grins, marveling at the way Harry can stand up while holding him. He’s put down to fashion some clothes onto himself, then chases Harry out the door. “What should I wear?” 

Harry contemplates for a moment as he combs through his hair with his fingers. He shrugs and says, “Something you.” 

  
  


Zayn comes home with his left eyebrow permanently lifted. Permanently.

“I ain’t sitting on that couch no more,” He says as he opens a window. “Kinda gross, boo.” 

“Mm,” Louis’ fucked out and catatonic, but that’s alright. “I’m his babe now. I’m going to Friday’s party as his babe.” 

“Really? That’s great,” Zayn winks at him smugly. “Tall and sexy like a tree, right?” 

Louis laughs and throws a pillow from the couch at him, resulting in a disgusted squawk and the most athleticism Louis’ ever seen Zayn exhibit as he rips his shirt off and runs to the bathroom to “boil himself.”

**_Ch7: Love me now, when I’m gone, love me none!_ **

r/GraysonU - Posted by u/ltomlinson34578 30 minutes ago 

**Update: Ever feel like when something’s too good you know it’s all about to crash and burn?**

You guys, this guy is so perfect. He leaves me alone, right, and then on the days we meet we eat and smoke and fuck and it’s like nothing, absolutely nothing can bring me down on these days. 

It’s a different type of high, being with him. With my ex, all that cunt ever did was make me nervous and or cry, so my teeth got so ground down from clenching my jaw in the year we were together. Now I got fangs and my new guy loves it when I bite at his neck. 

But I can’t help but worry, maybe it’s just broken family kid things. Every inch of me feels like there has to be something to scrutinize, to ruin this. I know it’s bound to end, whether the honeymoon period or the relationship all together, and that’s not me being cynical, it’s just me being a realist. 

I still feel like I don’t know anything about him at all, you know? It scares me because I just don’t know how to be let in without requiring me letting him in too much as well. Because another thing is like, what if we don’t like the real us? 

340 Upvotes - Posted by u/hahahahaha8907 10 minutes ago

Hey! I’ve been following this thread for a while now and I want to let you know you can pm me about this—I say this because I’m emotionally invested and care about you—stop posting about this on here. If we all go to school together it’d be pretty fucked if we found out who’s who or even worse, your new guy finds out you’ve been talking about ur dating life online rn. 

_Reply to u/hahahahaha8907_

Thanks for your concern, but I guess part of the therapeutic aspect of it is the anonymity? I don’t want to get too personal with just one person because then it doesn’t feel anonymous and lost in the crowd anymore. 

_Reply to u/ltomlinson34578_

Alrighty, that’s fine! Just be careful and I’ll say this: Stop thinking about the crash and the burn. I know you’ve experienced both before, but if you keep on having this mindset every time you find someone you’re eventually just not going to want to drive at all; end up selling the car. If you know what I mean. Sit there, look pretty, pass your classes. Life will work out. 

_Read more on r/GraysonU…_

  
  


“You look amazing, baby. Don’t catch gonorrhea!” 

“Thanks, Moira! You still have some money leftover for supper?” 

“Yes I do, baby! Go get ‘em.” 

  
  


“Liam, the pizza place is closing in like an hour so I’m gonna order right now,” Harry calls out with his phone already pressed to his ear. He gestures to Liam, who seems intensely focused down at someone’s phone. “What’s up?” 

It’s Niall’s phone—the owner of which has just shown something to Liam that’s both got them a bit transfixed. 

“It’s…” Niall starts nervously, looking up at Harry when he crosses the room over to them. “It’s #1 on the school subreddit.” 

“Well, what’s it about?” Harry laughs, then reaches forward to firmly pry the phone out of Liam’s hands. Liam jumps and panics when the screen’s taken away. “Wow, more than a thousand upvotes on…” 

  
  


Zayn slaps Louis’ ass as they make it to the Greek courtyard, giggling when Louis tries to retaliate but miserably ends up swatting at air. “You look extra juicy today, boo.” 

“Thank you, my flat little shawty,” Louis teases, hugging the bottle of Grey Goose he’s been hiding under Harry’s jacket. (Which was given to him a while back but now that they’re official official, he can finally wear it out in public.) 

They make it to the line at the front door when Louis sees multiple brothers walk out onto the porch, scanning the crowd. One of them’s Niall, whose eyes widen when they make mutual contact. “Louis!” 

“Zayn!” Liam also is running towards them in a rushed manner, and both boys look very panicked. 

“What’s up, guys?” Louis smiles brightly, winking while holding up the bottle. But he doesn’t get an equal reaction. He looks over and Liam’s whispering in Zayn’s ear. 

It’s almost like slow motion as he watches Zayn’s eyes slowly widen, then narrow, then widen again, then looking down to where Zayn’s feet start coming toward him.

It’s the crash. They’re crashing, aren’t they? Why? He doesn’t know why. Does it matter why? He was right. “What’s wrong?” His voice cracks as he asks, and Zayn reaches and grabs his wrist. 

“You need to go talk to Harry. He’s fucking pissed or something—shit, I dunno.” The three of them—Liam, Niall, and Zayn all start clearing a path and pushing people out of the way to get Louis inside, and he can feel his heart picking up the pace while his feet still haven’t gotten the message, and this sinking feeling in his chest keeps going deeper and drowning his heart more and more. He can barely hear anything, the disco lights dizzying and swirling all around him. 

He’s being dragged up the stairs now. Somehow, a familiar tread turned sour, and he doesn’t even know what’s going on yet.

But then he’s abandoned in front of Harry’s door and the obvious thing to do is just knock, right? Just knock? 

Right before his fist makes contact with the door, a deafening crash makes all the bones in his body jump five feet into the air. Then shouting and angry yelling and it’s Harry in there, furious for some reason and cursing like everything’s gone to shit and slurring words like “Why?” and— 

He can’t be here. This isn’t right. Another crash, shattering of what’s probably Harry’s lamp and that’s all it takes for Louis to spin on his heels and run downstairs, inevitably becoming part of a wave in a gigantic, partying crowd. 

It really isn’t surprising, at this point, to run into the one person he couldn’t bear to see most. 

“Hi, Lou. Long time no see.” 

“Hi,” Louis responds without thinking as he heads for the door, wherever it is. A hand touches his shoulder and softly presses, like he’s being told he isn’t allowed to leave. Louis turns around. 

At first it’s a red cup. Then it’s a pair of broad shoulders neatly packed in a varsity jacket. Then it’s the cologne, the unmistakably offensive and familiar scent. 

“You’re as sexy as ever,” Witt scans him up and down before smirking and killing the rest of his drink. “How’ve you been? Still heartbroken?” 

Louis can’t even respond, just tries again to turn around and his face crumbling when he feels a hand now on his waist. “We should dance, for old times sake. Look what I brought,” 

“No, Witt, fuck off.” Louis shouts as loud as he can, but the music is too loud and the feeling of Witt’s breath down his neck is too distracting for him to focus on being a person. 

**trigger warning: non-con drug use scene!**

“I brought your favorite,” Witt dangles a tiny plastic bag in Louis’ face. “Nothing like a little percocet to make things interesting.” 

His body is frozen, like he’s suddenly got no control anymore, like he’s already given up. “Witt, I have places to be, people to—“ To his shock, something’s thrown into his mouth and very quickly does Witt come behind him and use a strong hand to close Louis’ jaw, the other coming around to pinch his nose and force him to swallow. 

Louis shrieks, elbowing his ex in the gut before fighting to run away—distantly hearing his name being called—never has he felt so sick and violated, like he needs to go to the restroom immediately and shove some fingers down his throat to get rid of it all. He stomps on Witt’s feet and turns around to punch him in the jaw. 

“Fucking whore. Can't believe I ever thought I'd want to fuck someone whose been passed around like a fleshlight.” 

Louis leaves the cunt standing there holding his face like an idiot, and the moment Louis decides he’s going to the bathroom is also the same moment he realizes that the nearest one is upstairs, where Harry is. 

He’s going home. He’s going to take himself home. 

He shoves past everyone and manages to crawl out of the front door, tears streaming down his face and the world blurring in several different ways. It’s so dark outside that the grass looks black and all the trees look like demons coming after him, so it isn’t long before the trip takes over and he begins running like a madman. 

He starts screaming at some point, because he can’t see anything and he keeps hearing his name being called, and out of nowhere a wide and scary demon is staring him down, in his way, so he shuts his eyes and rams right through it, wincing and gasping as he makes it to the other side. 

He runs, and he runs, and he runs, and he runs. 

_Ghetto whore._

_Project bitch._

_I brought your favorite._

_—Fuck, love. It was actually goddamn love._

_Sugarcane._

Louis stops and immediately falls right onto his knees, feeling his joints jolt and something cracking at the small of his back. He lays on the ground, shivering, thinking to himself the words that won’t leave his mind and the fact that he’s somehow lost both his sweater and his shoes. 

And if this night couldn’t get any worse, he hears another familiar sound. A siren. 

  
  


“Prez,” 

“Prez, stop,” 

“Pre—Harry!” Liam finally comes over and pulls Harry back by his chest. “Fucking stop it, your hands are bleeding.” 

“Bro, don’t touch me,” Harry gasps, trying to resist his best friend’s grip. “Fuck this, fuck—“ 

“Prez,” Niall starts, but quickly shuts his mouth when Harry ferociously kicks his own desk chair across the room. “Louis’ here, he wants to talk to you?” 

Liam flashes him a look of, ‘what the hell do you mean?’ because the only reason why they’re there is because Louis _isn’t._ “He’s somewhere.” 

“Let me patch you up, alright?” Niall shakily grabs the first aid kit underneath Harry’s bed and begins to unravel packets of gauze and alcohol. “Sit down, please.” 

“You’re scaring everyone,” Liam adds, referring to the number of freshmen brothers looking at them from the hallway. He lets Harry slump over his bed to shut the door. “They’ve never seen you like this, you know?”

“I feel like I should’ve seen this coming,” Harry bitterly laughs, not even flinching when Niall starts wiping his wounds he’s inflicted on himself. “Always talking about trust, privacy, always asking about my grades,” 

“Your grades got nothing to do with it,” Liam stops him from blubbering further, “He’s just insecure and you’re a control freak. What about it?” 

Harry looks up at him like he’s insane, “What about it? He told the whole world about how he’s unsure if he wants to be with me while telling me we’re going so well.”

“He told you, that—wait,” Niall shakes his head. Wise one, he is. “ _He told_ you that you guys were going well? Who fucking says that?” 

Harry swallows and flinches when Niall begins to wrap his hands. “No one. He didn’t.” 

“Don’t take this personally, prez,” Liam rubs his hands over his own face, then rests one underneath his chin like he’s thinking. “After all, it’s not like he ever said your name.” 

“That’s not the point,” Harry spits, “He didn’t trust me enough to talk to me about it, the person he’s actually dating.” 

Liam shrugs, “It’s hard trusting people.”

“How are you on his side right now?” 

“I mean, what he did was kind of fucked up, but it’s not like he expected it to go viral either. What do you do when you have something to say but no one to say it to?” 

“I don’t say shit,” Harry pouts, adamantly yanking his hands away the second Niall’s done. “I let it sit there until it disappears.” 

Niall sniffs while standing up, “That’s you. How many instances in your life have you had to do that?” 

“This is under the assumption that Louis’ somehow had a harder life than me?” 

“What, you don’t know?” Liam asks, crossing his arms and softening his stance. “You don’t know anything about him?” 

Harry looks away. “I know enough.” 

“Right,” Liam scoffs, but not in a mean way. “So we’re treating people with the same mentality as we would a test.” 

Niall chirps, “Like an equation. Making things make sense. I feel like if you knew more about him, maybe there would be more in your conversations. But also maybe he doesn’t want to have conversations.” 

“And you don’t deserve that,” Liam pats his friend’s back. “You deserve someone that can talk to you. Maybe just accept it’s not meant to be and move on.” 

Niall seems to agree, judging by his slow nods and deep inhales. “We’ll find him and you should end it tonight.” 

Harry says nothing. He sits there while his friends begin picking up all the things he threw onto the floor. 

  
  


“Excuse me, kiddo, you can’t be sleeping on the street. Excuse me, there was a complaint filed and the woman who owns this property wants you off it.” 

Louis can’t really answer, all the words are spinning in his head. “No,” is all that comes out. 

“Okay, here we go.” The police officer bends down—Louis can hear his knees crack, and gently takes a hold of his arm. It makes his entire body feel like he’s being electrocuted, so he uses everything in his power to wriggle away. “Come on, kid, work with me here. I don’t want to have to drag you or cuff you.” 

“Don’t touch me,” Louis hisses, sitting up. 

“You have cuts all over you,” Policeman observes out loud, “Did someone assault you? Tell me what happened.” 

“Am I getting arrested?” Louis asks, just noticing what he was talking about. His body looks like shit, arms bleeding and stinging. 

“Not if you got assaulted,”

“I got a little fucked up, I’m fine. You should just arrest me, or whatever you want.” 

“What on earth is wrong with you?” Policeman shakes his head, helping Louis up despite his protests. “Yeah, I’m going to drive you home. Where do you live?” 

Louis cackles, “Not falling for that,” 

“Not falling for what?” 

“Stop acting like you’re some benevolent holier-than-thou savior that’s here to keep people safe,” Louis sniffs, shaking the policeman off belligerently. “I mean, maybe you are because this is the nice part of town, but whatever. All of you are the same.” 

Policeman raises an eyebrow and sighs, “My name is Officer Miller. Eh, Daniel. Daniel Miller.”

“Did I ask?” 

“I just wanted to humanize myself a bit. What’s your name?” 

“Louis,” Louis realizes that the officer gave him his coat a while ago. “Louis Tomlinson.” 

“Okay,” Officer Miller shrugs, “Now we’re Daniel and Louis, you okay with that?” 

“Whatever.” 

“All of us are the same, you’re not wrong,” Daniel laughs, “But I don’t think tonight is the night to have a sociological discussion about how innately power hungry and corrupt the Police is,” He offers Louis a bottle of water, which he takes. Now they’re sitting on the curb. “Maybe tomorrow. When you’re sober.” 

“So you’re not going to arrest me? Even though I’m technically trespassing?” Louis downs the entire bottle in an impressive three seconds. “Also, I’m completely sober.” 

“I just want to know how you got all those cuts,” Daniel points to his arms and legs. “And who took your shoes. If you still insist on being arrested after that, eh, we can find you a holding cell.” 

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I go to the university,” Louis snickers more at himself, like it’s been more than two years and he still can’t believe it. “I play the violin.” 

“Nice,” Daniel nods, “Deflecting, I see. Well, I used to go to the university too. Grayson, down the street?” 

“Yup,” Louis answers. “Grayson, down the street. I met a guy and it all kind of fucked up tonight. I think, not sure. But I am sure. I know what’s wrong, but I don’t. You feel?” 

“No,” Daniel deadpans, “I don’t.” 

“I ran away from my problems,” Louis vocalizes into the air, refusing to make eye contact. “And I ruined something great with this guy I really like.”

Daniel gasps, “I know who you are.” 

Louis snaps his head towards him, “What?” 

“You’re—you’re—“ Daniel fumbles around in his pockets and eventually stands up to run to his car, coming back while fiddling on his phone. “You’re ltomlinson34578!” 

“Fuck,” Louis curses, hiding his face. “Fucking hell.” 

“I’m—I’m the alum that keeps up with your threads, just—wow, I’m guessing he found out, huh?” Daniel laughs, like Louis deserves it. “We all told you—“ 

“I don’t know if he found out, but I think he did,” Louis cuts him off. “Save the lecture, I already know.” 

“But you just said you don’t,” Daniel holds out his hands. “It sounds like you just ran away,”

“Because he’s scary when he’s mad, he was throwing shit,” 

“Then you shouldn’t be with him,”

“But everyone’s scary when they’re mad, and maybe he was just pissed off real bad,” Louis reasons, “Everyone’s scary.” 

Daniel sighs deeply and contemplates for a bit before saying, “So you just got high and went for a run? Because you didn’t want to talk to him? How did he find out, anyways? I don't remember you mentioning a name." 

Louis gulps the truth down, “How do you know I’m high?” 

“People usually stop when they run through a thorn walled gate. And your pupils are dilated and your hands are shaking.” Daniel shakes his head. “What did you take?”

Louis keeps silent, until, “They said it was perc.” 

“It definitely wasn’t perc.” 

“Well, fuck me. I’m gonna die or get AIDS and die,” Louis covers his face. “My life is over, just arrest me and get it over with.” 

Daniel seems to gain a semblance of understanding, “You’re on a scholarship...how destructive of you.”

“Don’t fucking tell me shit right now, alright?” Louis’ lips begin to tremble and now he’s crying, everything coming out in uncontrollable heaves. Daniel doesn’t try and touch him or rub his back or give him a tissue, just sits there and waits. 

“Boys are not worth throwing away your education,” 

“That’s what a rich person would say,” Louis laughs wetly, “That’s what they all say the second you get here once you think you’ve made it, but it just keeps going and going and it doesn’t ever stop, and I think at one point I realized I’m never going to make it.” 

“I’m serious,” Daniel repeats his stance firmly. “Boys, no matter how wonderful, are not worth throwing away your education. I’m taking you home, so that you can sleep, and I better not ever see another update on Reddit again or ever see you at the station, do you understand me?”

“Can you not take me home? I have someone—I have someone to call,” There’s no way Louis’ letting this officer see Moira living underneath his apartment stairs. 

Daniel looks very relieved, thankfully. “You have someone? What’s their number,” 

  
  


“I can’t find him,” Zayn informs Liam tearfully, “He’d never leave without me or anyone, I, I—“ 

“Did you guys come with someone else?” Liam holds him by the shoulders and wipes his tears. When Zayn shakes his head, he frowns. 

“I just—fuck, my phone’s dead,” Zayn panics, wringing his hands and letting Liam take him upstairs. “Oh my god, what if something happened? Isn’t—isn’t Witt here?” He asks when they get upstairs, where Niall and Harry were checking every room. 

Upon hearing that, Harry’s face pales. 

“I’ll charge your phone for you, just try and calm down, baby.” Liam kisses his head. “He probably called, okay? C’mon,” They go into Liam’s bedroom, where Liam does the work of plugging Zayn’s phone in and the second it turns on, someone calls his name from outside. “I’ll be back, stay here.” 

Zayn sits down on the floor, unsure if he’s allowed to do so anywhere else. He scrolls through his texts and sees how there are no calls, until— 

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

“Hello?” 

“Hi, Zayn? Can you please come pick me up?”

  
  


“Any luck?” Niall asks Harry, who doesn’t even bother responding. “Hey, prez, where are you going?” 

Harry shuffles through the crowd when his eyes land on a familiar asshole, literally shoving girls out of the way until his hand meets the shoulder of Witt, the man he’s going to jail tonight for _murdering_. (Why he’s so angry at Witt, he doesn’t even know.) 

“Hey,” Harry grits out, making Witt turn around. “Where the fuck is Louis?” 

Witt’s face sours instantly before spitting on the ground, “How would I fucking know where that whore is? Probably sucking off a freshman in the bathroom.”

Harry punches him square in the nose. 

  
  


“Hi,” Louis says quietly when Zayn pulls up in his car. The latter’s face turns unreadable when he sees the state Louis’ in and the police car right beside him and Daniel. “Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course, boo,” says Zayn unsuredly, “Come on, let’s go home?” 

“This is Zayn, the person who takes me home,” Louis announces to Daniel, who nods seriously and helps him up, walking together towards the car. 

Zayn’s eyes warily follow Daniel’s movements all the way up, unlocking the doors and watching carefully as he helps Louis into the seat. “Should I take you to the hospital?” 

“No,” Louis slumps over and lays down across all three seats. “I wanna go home.” 

“Alright,” Zayn says curtly, telling Daniel to fuck off with every cell in his being. “Thank you, officer.” 

Daniel nods, “Keep him out of trouble.” 

The last thing Louis hears before he blacks out is, “Mhm.” 

  
  


**_Ch8: I can’t feel a thing, I can’t feel her…_ **

“Witt and his boy got back together, did you hear? Dude, I’d do anything to grab fistfuls of that ass,” 

“Fuck, I know. But honestly I wouldn’t want to catch anything, I heard he fucked the whole school board to get into this school.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Harry warns through clenched teeth, “Or else I’ll rip out your front teeth. Make you prettier for prison.” He glares down the two freshmen with fire behind his eyes. 

“Hey,” Liam looks at him nervously, “Alright, you two, fuck off.” As they run away, he turns to Harry, “Calm the fuck down.” 

“You know it ain’t true, right?” Harry scratches his head before reaching into his pocket for a cigarette and his lighter. “Louis didn’t fuck the school board.” 

“I know,” Liam puts his hands up defensively. “I’m on your side, bro.” 

“And he’s not back together with Witt, no matter what that cunt munching whore says,” Harry inhales deeply, letting his eyes fall shut before exhaling with all the hostility he’s been holding in his body. “Fuck.” 

“Stop,” Liam grabs the cigarette out of his mouth and crushes it with his foot. “Don’t start.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Have you heard from him, then?” Liam asks gingerly, trying his best not to upset him. When Harry shakes his head no, it’s like a punch to the chest. Who’s going to deal with this? I guess him. 

Later, once he gets Harry to do some homework, take a shower, coaxes him to have a few bites of a meal, and puts him to bed, he calls Zayn. “Hi, babe.”

“Hi,” Zayn sounds like he’s washing dishes or something. 

“You washing dishes; have you eaten yet?”

“Nah, I’m washing brushes,” Zayn laughs, “You’re on speaker, by the way. Lou’s here, vibing.”

Liam hums, “Tell him I say hi.” 

“Course, baby.” 

“Take me off speakerphone for a sec,” Liam suggests, biting his nails. His anxiety hasn’t been good recently. When he hears shuffling, a second voice jumps out at him, 

“If you’re gonna talk about me, can you please be a bit more subtle?” Louis sounds annoyed, on the verge of either crying or bursting into flames. Zayn sharply inhales and Liam shakes it off. 

“Yeah?” Zayn took him off, considering how clear his voice sounds now. “What’s up?”

“When are they going to fix their shit, or at least talk? It’s been like, almost two weeks now. It kind of fucking sucks having to deal with Harry like this,” Liam immediately regrets saying it, “I mean like, I never thought I’d ever have to tiptoe around my best friend like this, y’know? And it would just be fixed if Louis talked to him. Niall’s stressed out too.” 

Zayn sighs, “I know. I’ve been trying to talk to Lou about it, but it’s even harder now. He won’t say anything at all, like he won’t even say hi to me when he comes home. It’s worse than when we were kids, I swear to god.” 

Liam feels something tighten in his chest, “I wish Harry would just go over there, but he’s like really dead set on staying inside and finishing the rest of the semester in his room. I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want it to end, because we told him if they talk he should just end things.”

“Yeah, same,” Zayn sounds really sad. “You know, I feel like this is even worse than when Lou and that SOB broke up. At least then Lou talked, you know? He talked to me.” 

  
  


**Send to annestyles1@email.com**

**RE:** Hi mom, can we not call tonight? My throat’s really sore and I’m not feeling too good. 

Hi mom, I know you’re in Dubai right now and we probably can’t call anyways, so I just decided to email you because I’ve been kind of in a funk lately. I met this person and I really hit it off with them, but things ended really badly. Also, we never officially broke up so it feels even worse. :(( I know communication is key and everything but I just don’t really want to face him right now. 

I found out he’s been talking about our relationship online and hundreds of people now know about my personal life and he posted a lot about these feelings and thoughts I didn’t know he had. Like seriously, over 30 of these posts, a lot of threads, responses back and forth with strangers. He hasn’t apologized either[…]

_Click to show more_

**Send to hedwardstyles@wmail.com**

**RE:** No subject 

Hi honey, don’t worry about calling. We have a gross time difference. How stressed have you been recently? I know finals have been coming up. Since they are, you should try and resolve this as quickly as you can, for closure. I’m sorry you’ve been having a rough time. A few more weeks and you can come join us here, where we can talk more. 

So that’s the kind of advice you’re probably not looking for, right? I think you could’ve told anyone, anyone at all, maybe even one of the shitty counselors at Grayson about this but considering you came to me, you must be extremely broken about this. 

And the truth is, I don’t know what to tell you. You’ve always been a bit analytical and a bit calculating--never in a bad way, but certainly in a way that’s obvious so... my guess is you’ve probably become entangled with someone who is either the exact same person as you or someone so different and so perplexing you’ve come to your mother, a middle-aged soon to be divorcee, of all people, for advice on love. That’s certainly alarming, I do hope you went to your sister first. I want you to know that solutions are never really what you need. Life never allows for any sort of plan, because if you have a plan, that’s when things never go right. I can’t say I know what you expected, but I can say that I know that you must have had a wild amount of expectations and assumptions about this person, and that’s making you feel all these emotions you’re unable to place or unwilling to face. You’re the kind of person (and I say this as your mother) to take one minute detail and run with it until you’ve made a movie, and then offer suggestions in the editing of that movie you’ve created until the person in front of you isn’t the same person in your head nor your heart. 

This is not to say that you should take people at face value, that’s also wrong. But stop moving forward into their lives without them. Feeding a narrative so off the rails we all may as well use liferafts as an alternate mode of transportation. What he did sounds wrong. Horrible, actually. Sounds like he was never sure if being with you was right. But somehow, I refuse to believe that you wouldn’t have picked up on this along the way, even if he never communicated it to you outright. I ask you this: Were you choosing to dig a moat so that he wouldn’t drown in your attention and your love? Were you choosing to ignore how he never built a bridge to cross said moat? 

Oh yeah, and if you haven't figured it out, your father and I are getting a divorce.   
  


r/GraysonU - Posted by u/ltomlinson34578 2 minutes ago 

**Update: Thank you, everyone.**

I am leaving Reddit Breakups today. Thank you for all your support. I hope you all pass your classes, graduate, eat three meals a day, and have fulfilling lives. 

_Reply to u/ltomlinson34578_

You and new guy officially together?? 

_Reply to u/ltomlinson34578_

Omg...congrats. 

_Reply to u/ltomlinson34578_

Or maybe they broke up :0 

_Reply to u/tendertummies333_

Do NOT jinx it, you idiot!! 

“I’m proud of you, Lou,” Zayn hugs him from behind and kisses his shoulder. “Thank fucking god you came to _some_ of your senses. Thai?”

“Okay,” Louis hums, a sliver of a smile creeping up on him. He still felt like the world was ending inside of his body, but at least he could breathe. How was he going to live with his mistakes? Not continue them. 

“Also, I washed your sheets because they literally smelled like a dumpster. But hey, glad you finally showered.” Zayn says as the line rings, then brightens when it picks up. As he orders, Louis carefully puts his violin back in its case, twisting down his bow, shoulder rest, and wiping down his strings before securing them all in their spots. It’s only another ten minutes before Zayn gets a loud text notification and visibly freaks out. 

“Uh, Lou, I have to go,” Zayn quickly jumps up and starts gathering his things. “Emergency at the studio, I’ll leave money by the door—save my food, okay?” 

“Uh, okay?” Louis doesn’t even get a chance to question it before Zayn’s shuffling his shoes on and slamming the door shut. Odd. “Love you too. Be safe.” 

He fiddles on his phone for a while, using the throw blanket strewn on the couch as something to hug while he does it. Maybe twenty minutes later does the doorknob ring. 

That’s quite fast for delivery across town, isn’t it? Nevertheless, 

“Hi, let me just get the money—“ Louis opens the door and stops in his tracks. 

There Harry is, in his sweatpants and pajama shirt, looking like shit, sweating like he just ran all the way here from campus. “Louis.” 

Louis instantly begins closing the door, but Harry jams his foot in between right before he can. “Ow, fuck.” 

Terrified, Louis backs up and watches in shock as Harry walks in and closes the door. “Harry?” 

“We need to, we need to talk,” Harry says while biting his lip. “Can we? I know that was kind of rude just now but I just—we really need to talk.” 

Louis’ shaking. He sits down onto the couch and nods, patting the seat next to him. “Okay.” 

“Okay, uh,” Harry stammers, then places his hands on his hips awkwardly. “Well, first of all, why did you never show up to orchestra practice?” 

“Huh?” 

“I—I went to every single orchestra practice looking for you—anyways,” Harry shakes his head and then holds it, rubbing at his temples. “Fuck, didn’t even know if you were alive. Then you posted and—fuck.” 

Louis has nothing to say except, “I’m sorry, Harry.” Apparently, Harry follows the school subreddit now. 

“Yeah, I know.” Harry bites out. “I know. Just, shut up for a second so I can think.” 

It hurts way more than it was probably intended to. “Sorry.” 

“I’m not mad at you, alright?” Harry says after a moment of silence. “In fact, I think I get it—I mean, I don’t get it, but I do so that’s that and—point is, I’m not mad.” 

Louis’ voice is so quiet he isn’t sure if Harry can hear the “okay” he exudes in response. 

“I just, I did a lot of things wrong too. So you’re not completely in the wrong, you’re not. We both are, and truth is, I haven’t tried to come here earlier because, well, a, I just needed to think and b, I didn’t want to fucking dump you at your house but here we are.” Harry’s voice is shaking by the end of his piece, and Louis’ heart feels like it’s burst. They can’t even look at each other. Harry hasn’t even sat down. 

He looks like he’s about to cry. “I should’ve never have let the dynamic we had keep going the way it was going. I guess I got really comfortable acting like the both of us was normal _—were_ normal when obviously you had doubts and I kinda had doubts but we never talked about them and honestly we never fit right either. It would’ve, fuck, what do they say,” 

“Crashed and burned no matter what?” Louis scoffs it out, because he really can’t handle trying to process all of the information being thrown at him right now. 

“Yeah. Sure, that.” Harry goes silent. He’s been breaking out but his hair looks clean and he smells good, so it’s been the stress. Louis’ been stressing him out. 

And something inside him just decides to boil over. “So we’re done then?” 

Harry stutters, “Yeah, I guess we are. You have nothing to say?” 

“I’m glad you were able to pretend like we were normal with me,” Louis nearly bites his own tongue trying to say it while so tense. “I’m glad—nevermind.” 

“No, say it, all out in the open. Just say it.” 

“I’m glad you got your first and last taste of project whore and this was a really enriching experience for you. I’m glad this was a step in the ladder and now we’re over and I get to have the privilege of standing six feet from you. That now we get to accept that the last six months of having nothing but you in my head was all for the sole purpose of it _crashing and burning_ and it still being the one-sided affair that I let it start off as.” 

“Woah, don’t fucking act like I’m the one who was selfish here.” 

“You weren’t, objectively you weren’t. Because how could you have been?” His body has become an active volcano. “No matter how this ended, you would have been allowed to put it on me. _That’s_ the dynamic you’re talking about right there. That’s it. The one where you’re named smartest, hottest, most trustworthy guy among all the rich kids and the will-be’s while I will always be that ghetto bitch who slept his way into this school. I will always have been the cute guy you thought you innocently made a connection with at a party; a connection never to go anywhere, anywhere at all, assure me that I can feel safe so that I can keep it all in me, the parts of myself to which I never get to feel like I can tell you shit and ruin this image of yourself you’ve worked so hard to create, and now you’re the real you, the really real you, with the pimples and the unkempt hair and the bandages all over your hands like you went through some shit and I am here, still having not said one word about who I am. Like I'm-like I'm unable to use my own body because it’s tired from everyone else having their turn; you made me feel like you were the normal one between us and yet you never wanted to make me feel normal either, so I don’t know what you’re talking about, this whole “pretend _we_ were normal” because that’s fucked. That’s fucked. And I won’t forgive you for that. And I’m sorry I ran away. And I’m sorry we don’t match. I’m not sorry for how you’ll be okay after this and I won’t. I’m not sorry for how you got your sugar high and now you’re tired and you’re sick of it, but what did you expect? Isn’t this what you wanted? What was I ever supposed to know what you wanted from me other than what everyone else wants? Who was I supposed to say it to? Who did I have, Harry?” He finishes because he physically can’t talk anymore, panting and sweating down the sides of his face. His fingers feel ice cold while his stomach feels awful, like it’s churning lava. 

Harry stares at him, completely frozen. They just do that for a while, staring at each other. Trying to see at which wrinkle or which mark they left to signify the other was there. “None of that made any goddamn sense. And for someone who likes to talk a whole lot online, you never said a damn word about what exactly happened that night. Because to my understanding you were supposed to be there. Where were you?” He asks, softly, in that tone of voice Louis knows he can never forget. 

“Somewhere in the town over. Witt...he, uh," Louis' lips tremble and he turns away before Harry can say anything about it. "Witt caught me in a corner and forced me on some spice. I ended up halfway across town and got picked up by an officer."

Harry goes still, expression entirely unreadable. Even his eyes have got nothing to say. “People who take spice all react differently to it.” 

“Well, yeah, and I ended up running with a ton of glass in my feet and I didn’t stop.” Louis looks at the floor. 

  
  


He smells like strawberries.

“Are you okay now?” Is all that manages to come out of Harry’s mouth next. “You went to the hospital?” 

“No, because then,” Louis fidgets, immensely uncomfortable talking about himself. “They would’ve found out about the spice and taken away my scholarship so Zayn just did what he could with a pair of tweezers.”

Fuck. Harry doesn’t remember the last time he felt so gutted. “That’s shitty. Sorry.” 

“No, I'm sorry. If I hadn’t had run away, then I never would’ve bumped into Wi-him anyways,” Louis shrugs. “Go figure, though. But anyways, thanks for coming. I’m glad we talked.” 

Is that really it? 

“Okay, new strategy: let’s both stop pretending any of this was serious.” Louis laughs out of nowhere, scratching his neck. He’s got a rash crawling up from his chest and threatening to reach his ears. “Right? It wasn’t even a year and like, neither of us were ready. This was just a fling.” 

Harry grits his teeth, “I mean, people _are_ saying you and Witt got back together.” 

“It isn’t surprising to me how people would easily believe I’d go back to my abuser, so, whatever. Just ignore it if people ask you about it.” 

Shit. 

“Now,” Louis scoffs, “Are you going to fuck me right now or what?” He keeps on scratching, but suddenly he winces and pulls his hand away. Harry looks at it; his fingertips are covered in bandaids. He must've been practicing so hard for his concert his fingers started bleeding. 

“Louis,” He tries, but Louis shakes his head and rolls his eyes, even backing away. 

“I am not the victim here,” Louis scoffs, “I am just a person with a place in the world. And my place isn’t next to you, and that’s fine. Yours obviously isn’t by me either. But I want to have sex, so f you want that too, then come here.” 

This wasn’t fair. Harry came here to dump him. But now, it feels like he’s the one being dumped and left for dead, which maybe that’s the point. He isn’t being manipulated; he can usually tell when he’s being manipulated. Instead, he was just given the most real version of Louis and it hurt like seldom has in his entire life. “I really like you. Or liked, I should say.” His feet walk forward while his heart screams at him to stop. 

Louis leans back, looking exhausted, beautiful, and just says: “Me too.” 

His lips aren’t very soft, but Harry’s alright with it. They’re chapped and scratchy, but every time they glide over his own he gets a jolt of life fighting its way up from his spine. Harry pulls back and says, “You didn’t have to do it on the school subreddit. Really, Louis?”

Louis scoffs and his lips part, “You’re right. I could’ve gone to a therapist.” 

“Therapy would’ve done fuckshit for you, bitch,” Harry insults, but now it’s folly. Sick and twisted, but folly. “Not even if you went for ten years.” 

Louis yanks Harry’s pants down and begins to undo his own. “Control freak, a fucking anal retentive, seriously. Didn’t get hugged enough by mommy.” They both laugh at that, because it’s true, but yikes. “Or maybe daddy used to hit you if you got a math problem wrong, is that it?” Suddenly, Louis’ got his hand in his hair and is now firmly massaging his scalp like they loved each other.

And in so many ways did Harry want it to be true. 

“Don’t hit my head on the armrest,” Louis bites Harry’s lip and pulls it, releasing just to do the same to his neck. It feels insanely good. “Or else I’ll fucking squeeze your dick off.” 

Harry pulls Louis’ cock out of his briefs and begins stroking hard and dry. “Try it, bitch.” 

Louis giggles against his neck and it makes him want to cry. 

“Who the fuck hates sandwiches?” Louis questions out loud, “Seriously, who the fuck hates sandwiches? It’s all I ever ate as a kid.” He moans when Harry thumbs over the tip, arching his back and looking like Venus on Earth. 

“I was more of the Kraft Mac n’ Cheese and pizza bagels kind of kid.” 

“You were a latchkey?” Louis sounds surprised. Harry nods, and they continue, fiercely ripping off each other’s clothes like they were committing a crime for existing. “That’s kind of hot."

“Something' you never knew about me,” Harry flips them over so that Louis’ now on top, “I'm going to make sure you ain't forget.” 

“You have the worst grammar ever. Guess you’re not as smart as everyone thinks you are,” Louis grabs the bottle of lube still underneath the couch from last time and slicks himself up. He preps himself, forcing Harry to watch, forcing Harry to be reminded of how he needs to memorize every curve and every edge of Louis’ design, because this is the last time. 

He wants to touch. “Let me do it, or you’ll really tear.”

“You’re not that big,” Louis rolls his eyes, and Harry can feel his cheeks heat up. “Have I ever told you I’ve taken two at once?”

They end up on the floor, somehow, Harry pinning Louis down with his hands held over his head, legs spread wide open. “Should we play music?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Louis pants, then whimpers when Harry grinds his thigh on him. “I'm sorry, Harry.” 

Harry keeps one hand on both of his wrists while using the other to play any kind of playlist. The first song that comes up ends up being his favorite song. Fuck, now this is what he’s always going to be reminded of when he plays it. Whatever. 

“I hate this song,” Louis says with his eyes closed, gasping and panting as Harry pushes into him. He’s fucking lying when he says Harry isn’t big. He’s measured it before.

“Really?” Harry asks, brokenly whining when he bottoms out and everything in the room starts spinning. 

Louis frees himself from Harry’s grasp so that he could hug him and scratch down his back. “No, I love this song. Fuck, you’re so big.” 

Ha. 

  
  


_I blame it on the, model broad with the Hollywood smile,_

“But skip it, it isn’t the vibe.” Louis grunts when Harry shoves forward, focused on the way his abs are clenching and unclenching. The latter’s got the bottom edge of his own shirt in between his teeth, clearly because he wants to see Louis’ body, meaning Harry still wants him, that this isn’t either a pity fuck or an anger fuck. Harry manages to skip the song while still rutting into him animalistically, like it was the only purpose God put him on the Earth for. 

_Crawlin’ back to you...ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do._

Then they make eye contact, and Louis feels the tears pooling. “My back is burning,” He whispers, and Harry kisses his forehead. “Take me to my room? I swear it’s clean in there.”

Wordlessly, Harry complies, picking Louis up and wrapping him around his body whilst still inside him. In that moment, Harry’s the only thing keeping Louis from falling, from hurting, from being unsafe. 

Louis clutches at his shoulders and Harry’s got him. 

“Your room’s nice.”

“Thanks,” He responds as he’s roughly thrown onto the bed. Roughly, but, could’ve been way rougher. Louis’ supposes that’s a good sign. Then Harry’s in him again, rutting and pounding down into him, holding his thighs open so harshly he’s sure to have bruises, grunting whenever Louis tries to shimmy away. 

“Don’t run.” commands Harry, who looks as beautiful as he ever has, even with the slight physical imperfections he’s got now like the slight dandruff in his hair. He hasn’t been taking care of himself, and it hurts Louis way more than it should. After all, according to their timeline, they are way past being over. But Harry switched back to his original cologne, does that mean something? Can it please mean something? 

Now he’s crying. He closes his eyes and covers his face as he’s being held down and fucked, dick slapping against his stomach with every thrust and the headboard slamming against the wall like someone's being murdered. 

And then, Harry wipes his tears away. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Louis reassures, grabbing onto Harry’s hands and sighing. “You’re absolutely lovely, don’t worry about a thing. Feels good. I'm sorry.”

“You’re so tight,” groans Harry, moving his hands away from Louis’ embrace to grip his hips and yank him towards his own while thrusting forwards. “God, you feel so good.”

For a moment, it doesn’t seem one-sided. Harry seems just as desperate. And that builds and builds and builds, until-

“I’m gonna come,” warns Louis, asking for kisses like he needs the comfort before he’s able to do it. “Fuck, don’t stop. Please don’t stop, Harry.”

“I won’t,” promises Harry. “I won’t.”

They come at the same time, loudly, with Louis’ neighbor probably angered beyond belief and his back arched so much it’s a miracle he doesn’t break it. Afterwards, Harry cleans him up with a washcloth he finds in the bathroom before silently doing the work of putting his clothes on. As Louis goes to see him out, Harry begins walking away. 

Then he turns around, right at the moment that Louis is about to close the door. 

Harry says, “You know, you’re right, neither of us are normal, I kept pretending I was and made you feel bad for not being. I’m really sorry you felt like you couldn’t ever trust me. I just want you to know that,” He has to pause before he chokes on his own tears. “I trusted you. I was able to trust you. In that sense, you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

**_Ch9: Too busy being yours to fall for somebody new._ **

“Oh my god, you look so good!” Moira gasps when Louis makes it to the bottom of the stairs. “Like a real professional. Ain’t that thing heavy?”

“Yep, but it’s the only way to carry it ‘round,” Louis laughs, slinging his violin across his shoulders. “Wish me luck today, Moira.”

“Nothing could make me prouder at this moment. Nothing.” Moira smiles at him, and it reminds him of his mom. 

“Hm,” Louis smiles, and then is on his way. It’s a bit different this time, waiting on the curb for Zayn to pull up, twiddling his feet. Because life is good, in many ways that Louis never thought he’d ever get to go through. Zayn moved out, but now they’re closer than ever, even reaching that pivotal best friend stage between the two of them and basically living in each other’s apartments anyways. 

He started therapy, and though it took four different counselors, he knew he finally got the right one when the fourth looked him up and down and scoffed. Just the kind of lovin’ he needed, he feels. 

  
  


r/GraysonU Posted by u/batmansbitchyarthoe - 15 minutes ago 

**On Behalf of ltomlinson34578…**

Hello everyone! This is moderator batmansbitchyarthoe writing just to let followers of the breakup saga that I have had contact with OP and they are doing really well. Unfortunately, things didn’t work out with “new guy” but OP’s come to the conclusion it was probably a good thing. Started therapy, got their shit together, life is looking good. They want to thank you for all the support and love and concern and hope to never have to be on this platform ever again. Hearts are open. Much love. 

_Reply to u/batmansbitchyarthoe_

Thank god, I was so worried 

_Reply to u/batmansbitchyarthoe_

But are they dating someone new tho??? I need more info 

_Reply to u/batmansbitchyarthoe_

Fake 

_Reply to u/batmansbitchyarthoe_

Let OP know I’m so glad they’re doing okay!!! 

_Reply to u/hahahahaha8907_

ofc 

“Hey!” Zayn shrieks from his car window. “You’re fucking late, bitch!” 

Louis snaps out of his temporary daze, looking up from his shoes and running as fast as he can to the car. “I’m not late!” 

“Wasn’t calltime ten minutes ago?” Zayn checks his watch and Louis lurches into the backseat after carefully sliding his violin case in first. “Oh yeah, it was ten minutes ago.” 

“Well fuck, drive faster!” Louis yells and groans, pulling on his hair. “Shit, conductor’s gonna be so fucking pissed. This is your fault, you should’ve picked me up sooner.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn waves him off, casually resting his left hand out the window and letting the breeze blow loud air into their ears. “I’ve never been so excited to go to such a boring event.” 

“Oh, fuck off. We both know you’ll show up to every one of my concerts at Carnegie soon enough.” Louis slaps the back of his head. 

Zayn smiles from ear to ear. “The confidence. I love it.” 

  
  


“Are you packed? Because I’m fucking not,” Gemma seethes through the phone, “This stupid fucking hurricane better not ruin my goddamn trip.” 

“Don’t worry about it, just bring moderate clothes,” Harry says offhandedly, because he really couldn’t care less about the hurricane threatening to strand his sister at her respective airport. He scrolls through Reddit, which has been an obsession as of late, mindlessly looking through gossip channels and purposefully avoiding with every cell of his being the r/Breakups subreddit. 

That is, until a notification pops up that catches his eye. 

“Who the fuck is…Batman’s bitchy art hoe?” 

“Sorry?” Liam stops in his tracks and looks vaguely uncomfortable, and that’s when it clicks. 

A while back, coming from the other room: _“Oh, fuck, fuck, harder! Please, Batman—ugh, god please save me! No seriously, fuck me harder, Liam.”_

“No one, forget I said anything,” Harry quickly snips, watching the blush fade from Liam’s cheeks as he recomposes himself and scurries away. “Jesus fuck, they’re so fucking freaky.” 

He reads the post, despite his second hand embarrassment of knowing the context behind Zayn’s username. Then he exits out of the app. Then he sits there for a while, thinking and not thinking and repeating that cycle a couple of times. 

Then he sets his phone down, and when Gemma starts calling him again, he just stares at it and never picks up. As he waits for it to go to voicemail, he rummages through his desk, looking for his planner. He opens to today’s exact date, gasping and slapping himself in the face. 

“Hey prez,” The admission makes him leap. “Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you. When are you leaving tonight?” Niall asks, standing in the doorway. 

“Uh,” Harry looks at the clock, then curses. “In like an hour.” 

“Oh, okay.” Niall pats the threshold. “Have a nice trip.” 

Harry’s neck’s starting to burn from looking down so much. “Mhm, thanks.”

Harry’s been in pretty bad shape lately. His parents got divorced, his sister lost her job, and he failed his final. He still passed the class, but still. He’s never failed anything in his entire life. 

Well, that’s not completely true. He failed Louis. 

Then, Gemma calls again, the sound of the vibration shaking Harry’s spine. “What, Gemma?” 

“Jeez, don’t be so fucking rude. I was wondering if I should take another pair of flipflops—“

“No, and I’m not going.” Harry’s voice trembles as he says it. “Let mom know she’s in the wrong for this one, and...uh, have fun, I guess.” He hangs up, bites the inside of his cheek a bit, and then throws on a sweatshirt and his running shoes. 

He starts running, running faster than he’s ever had in his entire life. “Where are you going?” Someone yells. 

“Prez, what the fuck?” 

“Where am I going?” Harry shouts back, “Where? Well, I don’t fucking know!” 

Everything is in overdrive, his hair blowing back, every nerve ending in the back of his neck pumping and jittering like he’s just drunk five cups of coffee. “Fuck!” He screams when he trips over a rock and falls, landing right on his hands and knees. Suddenly, he’s six again, falling and falling all over the playground as he attempts the monkey bars again and again. 

Harry looks down at his hands and it’s almost like he could still feel the blisters and all the frustration bubbling over him, the horrendous feeling of being unable to do something, unable to find a solution. If monkey bars were still plaguing him over thirteen years later, imagine how long it’d take to get over Louis. 

He brushes himself off and starts running again. 

Grayson University has a gigantic campus, large enough to have thirty thousand occupying its grounds at once. So he has time to think about just why the fuck he’s doing this. He read the post, right? Read the same one everyone else did? How Louis’ doing well without him? Why was he running after him like this was some cheap rom-com showing on Lifetime at midnight? 

He’s halted by a red light, and the second both feet meet each other at the ground is when the emotions begin to run over him again. He’s _angry._

“A step on the ladder, huh? You’re not sorry that I’ll be fine and you won’t, right?” He yells out loudly, so loudly that the people beside and behind him all begin backing away from the strange and scary man. “That this will always be your fault, right? And mine for being _stupid enough to love you?”_ He kicks the crosswalk pole, immediately regretting the crunch it results in his toes. “Fuck!” 

“Bro, chill out,” Someone says behind him, but by then the light turns green and Harry has no will to reply or retaliate, beginning his tread again-admittedly slower because he’s pretty sure something’s broken-and sprinting down the street. For the last few months, he’s been memorizing routes in his head about how to get to the music conservatory from his house, at what time he would’ve started getting ready to meet Louis there, how long it would take to walk all the way from class from house to seat, the detour he’d take to grab the flowers he ordered—fuck, the _flowers._

“The flowers!” Harry screams angrily, “Ugh!” He spins on his heels and runs back towards the florist, wrenching the door open and successfully frightening all the engaged couples looking at catalogues. “I’m here to pick up an order.” He grabs his wallet from his back pocket and slaps a hundred dollar bill onto the counter. The girl at the cashier flinches at this display, but nevertheless gets his bouquet from the fridge and does the expedient work of wrapping them up. “Pink or blue?” She’s referring to the colors of tissue paper. 

“Uh, brown.”

“Brown?” She admonishes, but his glare is enough to get her to shut up. Once they’re handed off, Harry starts walking away. “Wait, you don’t want your change?”

“It’s tip; sorry for being so rude. Sorry, everyone.” He apologizes, tucking the bouquet stems underneath his arm and heading out. He checks his watch and he’s officially missed Louis’ concert. 

So he stops. “Fuck,”

“What’s up, kid?” The police officer who’s been sitting on the outdoor table of a cafe asks, looking disgruntled by Harry’s appearance and the flowers being slowly crushed by his armpit. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry answers, “Just too late for something.” 

“Mm, there’s always next time.” Police officer shrugs. Oh, fuck you. 

“No,” Harry huffs, pushing up his sleeves. “There isn’t.” He heads down the street, this time slowly, because the conservatory is just a few blocks away at this point. He begins trying to fix the flowers, but many of them have wilted or been crushed by his arms on the journey. By the time he turns the corner, people are already starting to file out of the building, many of them holding flowers ten times as beautiful and hugging people who were smiling. 

So he starts smiling, despite himself. His heart starts dropping to the center of his body, as if it’s terrified to watch him do probably the most idiotic thing he’ll ever do. He waits there, a good two hundred feet from the doors, letting his eyes wander and pick up hope as they search the crowd. 

There he is. 

Harry’s feet start moving as his heart screams for him to stop, legs wobbly, toes still hurting, sweating running down the sides of his face. The audacity! For Louis to hit all those nerves! 

The pimples? Really? So shallow. Harry hasn’t said all the things he wants to say, he hasn’t looked at Louis’ face for long enough to even think about getting sick of it yet. “Hey!” 

Oh, shit. Louis nearly drops the flowers Zayn got him out of surprise. The angel turns his head and looks at Harry’s chest, his eyes slowly crawling up to his face. “Oh, fucking hell.”

Yeah, he agrees. “Hi. Congrats.” He lurches the flowers forward by extending his arm, having to turn his head away from the embarrassment. 

“Oh, uh,” Louis meekly walks forward to take them, “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” 

“Well, that’s alright.”

“We’re...fucking off now,” Zayn says nervously, gripping onto Liam’s arm and yanking the both of them away from the situation. Louis looks seriously peeved about this. 

“I...I saw Zayn’s post on Reddit.” God, he sounds like such an idiot. 

“Did you?” Louis sighs, “Well, that’s unexpected. What did you think? I still haven’t read it yet.”

“I mean,” Harry awkwardly bites his lip, “I’m still...not done.”

Louis looks up, confused. “And what do you mean by that?”

Yeah, what _does_ he mean? “I still haven’t said everything I wanted to say. About us.” 

Louis’ face falls, “Yeah?”

Harry can’t help but scoff lightly, “Well, yeah. I’m kind of...I’m kind of still angry with you,” To his absolute horror, a tear drops off his chin and onto his arms, and judging by Louis’ reaction, neither of them expected that. “You left me in the, in the dust, kind of. I-I really wasn’t that mad, Lou, but now I am, because I’m not okay, and you basically guaranteed I would be.” 

Louis’ jaw drops slightly. _“Huh?”_

“My life’s kind of gone to shit without you. And I know you don’t think you really changed anything about me when we were dating, but without you I just realized how shitty my life actually was,” Harry sobs, “And to be honest, being with you made me feel so genuinely happy that I ended up going too far and pretending everything was alright. I _liked_ that I couldn’t read you and you couldn’t read me, because then it wouldn’t hurt if you left. But then you _did_ read me. Like a fucking dictionary...and then you left.” 

“Harry,” Louis’ hands come forward to rest on Harry’s arm, “Look, you want to go somewhere else to talk about this?” 

Harry shakes him off and pouts, “No.”

Louis‘ jaw drops in what is most definitely disbelief. “Oh, my god.” 

  
  


Harry sniffles and crosses his arms, “I know I wasn’t perfect.” He’s crying so much, possibly more than Louis’ cried about this. It’s astonishing. “I know I wasn’t good to you.” He’s wiping his tears now and it sounds so wet, like the fucking Niagra Falls. “I don’t wanna lose you.” 

Fuck, and now Louis’ crying. “Then why’d you let me go, you fucking idiot?” He asks, pulling Harry’s hands away to wipe his tears himself. “You were perfect, you fucking idiot, that was the whole point.”

“No, _you’re_ perfect.”

“And you think going back and forth about this is what’s healthy? When we're just always saying shit we don't really mean?” Louis asks softly, trying not to be so damn affected by the way Harry leans down and coaxes him to run his hand through his hair. He does, because, who wouldn’t? Who can resist running their hands through Harry’s hair? “Love, look at me.”

“I know, but it’s so damn hard,” Harry wails, kind of like a child, and Louis feels wrong for laughing. “Oh, come on. Don’t laugh.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sugarcane.” Louis bites it back and his eyes widen when he realizes what he just said. “I mean—”

Harry’s face reads even more miserable. “I just wanted to—to see you,” He hiccups. “And to say that I love you and I know you won’t take me back, but I’ll still love you and this is really hard.” 

People are watching. “Oh, shit.” Louis drawls, biting his lip, because god, he loves him too. “Your life got shitty, baby?”

Harry leans into Louis’ touch and his hands make their way to Louis’ waist. “My parents got divorced. And I hate them. And then I failed my finals and my car broke down again.” 

“Oh,” replies Louis. “And then what?”

“I’m breaking out, see? You gon’ make fun of me for it?” Harry squeezes his eyes shut and knocks their heads together. 

“No, baby, I won’t. Sorry about that, I didn’t mean it last time. I guess I was surprised at seeing a version of you where it was real, and I guess it was shocking.”

“In the heat of the moment, people say things they don’t mean,” Harry reasons, and rubs the side of his face against Louis’ hair. “I do mean it though when I say I love you. And that I gotta lotta growin’ to do.” 

“You got that right,” Louis smiles, giving in and wrapping his arms around Harry, pulling him in for an embrace. Now, he can feel both hearts thudding a million miles a minute, and it feels real. “So do I.”

“This is so fucked up,” Harry’s still crying, “I’m so sorry.” 

“No!” Louis blubbers into his chest, “I’m sorry too. I’m so sorry for talking about our fucking love life on the internet. Fuck, I’m so fucking sorry for not even trying to tell you about it.” It feels easier now, to apologize. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“I broke your flowers.” 

“Nah,” Louis realizes he’s dropped them. “Oh, I—yeah, don’t worry about it.” 

“Sugar, I missed this, do you believe it?” Harry’s voice is now low and scratchy, probably from being dehydrated and being so stressed. “I miss you all the time.” They pull back to look at each other, but Harry starts covering up his face and there is no way Louis’ going to let him continue. 

“Stop that, stop it!” Louis shakes his head. “Stop, you’re beautiful.”

“Sugar,” He complains, 

“No, I love your skin. I love the way it covers you,” Louis babbles, because he’s got no control of his mouth anymore. “If you didn’t have any, _then_ it’d be a little weird, right? Look it, you got—you got all the stories and the marks written all over you—like you can’t,” He has to catch his breath from crying, “Like you can’t even hide it, that you’re hurting, and it’s beautiful. Don’t you fuckin’ start, you’re beautiful.” 

Harry’s a pouter, it seems. He’s so insecure and this is something Louis would’ve never expected. So he just keeps running his mouth, “And we’re just the start, you little wonder beam, like either a mistake or the greatest thing to ever happen. And you’d think I’d care if it ends up being the former, but I don’t. I don’t fuckin’ care. ” 

“Your accent,” Harry giggles. “It’s kinda funny sounding.”

“Oh really, Ms. Georgia?” Louis explodes in laughter when Harry does. “Shit, who even _are_ we?” 

Harry gains just enough composure to tilt Louis’ head up and kiss him. “That’s for us to find out together, you know? If you’re willing.”   
  


“You know what?”

Zayn cracks open his water bottle as he replies, “What?” 

“He could’ve just asked for a ride,” Liam says as he unlocks his car. 

And of course, Zayn chokes, coughing and sputtering, debating on either laughing or...laughing. 

“But y’know. They’re just _that_ fucking dramatic.” 

  
_**Ch10: Then she ran her hands through my imagination!** _

“Have you eaten?” Is the first thing Louis asks when they get back to his apartment. Harry wordlessly shakes his head, looking so adorable with tear streaks still left on his face. “Do you want somethin’ to eat?” Harry shakes his head again. They take off their shoes, Louis gently resting his violin down on the coffee table as Harry stands there awkwardly. 

“Come here, sugar,” Louis reaches his hands out for Harry to take, and once he does, he leads them to the kitchen, where he gets Harry a glass of water and dampens a paper towel. 

One drinks as the other wipes the former’s face, gently humming and enjoying the serenity of being close to each other again. “You okay?” 

“This is, uh, good water.” 

Louis snorts. “God, you’re so awkward. It’s really cute.” He reassures when Harry looks crestfallen, “Seriously, it’s super cute, I’ve always liked dorks.” 

Harry raises an eyebrow, “Oh, wow. Attacking my kind, huh?”

“Kind of, yeah,” Louis nods, “But as far as frat boys go, you’re not that bad.” He squishes Harry’s face together and kisses his pursed lips. “What do you want to do now?”

“Shower.” Harry admits honestly. “Wash my face.” 

Louis backs him up so that he jumps up onto the counter, spreading Harry’s thighs and standing in between them. “Nothing else?” He asks, holding his lip in between his teeth and pleading with his eyes. 

Harry’s way too busy brooding, though. He shakes his head, “I just want to...hold onto your ass with one hand and wash my hair with the other.” 

Louis snorts and knocks his face into Harry’s chest. “Yeah, I missed you.” 

There’s vibrating coming from Harry’s pocket, “Is someone calling you?” 

“No,” Harry answers, taking his phone out of his phone and throwing it across the room. Louis gapes at it until Harry kisses the shock out of him. “I’m staying here tonight, okay?” 

“I dunno if my clothes will fit you,” Louis hums, inquisitively kissing Harry’s jaw. “But I don’t mind the thought of having you walk around my house naked.” 

“Okay,” Harry shrugs, getting off the counter to wrap Louis’ legs around his waist. “Hold on tight, sugar.” 

“I changed my shampoo, can you tell?” 

“Mm, you’re the same amount of stinky as you always have been,” Harry holds him close, embracing him wholly as he bends down to turn the water on. “You want me to strip you?” 

“Yeah,” Louis yawns, feeling tired and achy all over. Today was an eventful day. 

“Alright,” Harry unbuttons his trousers and expertly shimmies Louis out of them, leaving a kiss on his ass as he kneels in front of him. “Beautiful.” 

“Mm,” Louis whines, embarrassed. “Stop, I haven’t worked out in a while. I’ve definitely flattened out.” Harry tries to kiss it again, but this time he moves him away. “Take my shirt off.” 

“So bossy,” Harry does it for him anyways, the steam from the hot water fogging up the whole room. “I missed you.” 

“I know,” Louis says smugly, but can’t maintain his cool. “I missed you more, stupid.” 

They wordlessly rub soap all over each other, Louis slapping Harry’s chest when he gets too close to slipping a finger into his ass, massaging his own strawberry shampoo all up in Harry’s scalp with extra tender love and care. Louis doesn’t even complain when Harry begins to scrub his back for him, being extremely detailed and even helping him clean behind his ears. 

“Don’t choke me, okay?” Louis asks softly, getting down on his knees and watching the delight spread across Harry’s face. 

Harry’s hand immediately touches the side of Louis’ face, rubbing at his ear and thumbing the line of his jaw. “You want me to wash your hair?” 

“Yes, please.” 

“No nails, right?” 

“No nails,” Louis affirms, holding onto Harry’s dick in his hands. “Massage the bottom of my scalp.” 

Harry grunts, watching him intently. “Okay.” First, he leans down to kiss Louis quickly before straightening back up and getting closer to his face. 

And it’s just like it sounds, hard to breathe with so much cock in his mouth, Louis’ eyes are basically forced shut with the water flowing down his face, Harry gingerly washing and rubbing at his hair with both hands. Every time he lets him in deeper, Harry pauses, so Louis has to open his eyes and glare up at him to continue. 

“I’m not even gagging yet,” Louis pulls off to say, hitting Harry’s thigh lightly. “Stop being such a Witt.” 

Harry blinks to that in response, but very purposefully, his eyes widening comically on the way back open. “What? What did you just say?” He asks, with steam coming out of his ears and his nose flaring like a bull. The hand in Louis’ hair tightens suddenly, making his breath hitch low in his throat. “I...I said…” 

Harry raises his eyebrow and cocks his head to the side. “Go ahead, sugar. Say it.” 

“...Nevermind.” 

Yeah, that’s fucking right. “You better blow me like your life depends on it, because I’m pissed.” Harry sniffs, turning the water temperature hotter. He rinses the shampoo out of Louis’ hair before moving on to the conditioner, watching excitedly as Louis complies with his command. Soon enough, there’s a loud slurping sound echoing across the walls of the bathroom, with Louis using both hands on the base of his cock and rotating them in all different directions, tongue flicking on the underside. 

“Good boy.” 

Louis’ eyelashes flutter when he says it, releasing a small sound before scooching closer to Harry. “That taste good, sugar?” 

“Mhm,” Louis nods, bobbing his head down lower until his body lurches from gagging. “Fuck,” 

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Harry gently holds the edges of Louis’ jaw to stabilize him, holding onto the wall with his other hand to keep from falling. Fuck, it feels like nothing else in the entire world. 

They’ve done this a few times, but never like this: with Harry making sure all of Louis’ precious body is clean and he isn’t choking too hard, with pretty smelling steam making him feel so high, and shockwaves running down to his toes. “I’m gonna come if you continue, sugar.” 

Louis pops off and works him off as he says, “Then come?” 

“No,” Harry pouts, bending down to kiss Louis. “Look at you; I wanna come in you.” 

Louis looks spell bound as he gently presses on the sides of his neck and runs his hair back for him, blinking slowly and cheeks getting pinker by the second. Then, he says, “Daddy, I’m dizzy.” 

  
  


Harry freezes and Louis’ eyes snap open, fully alert and feeling the weight of his words instantly. “Oh, shit, sorry, I just—“ 

“Don’t apologize,” Harry barks, but then recoils and slaps a hand over his own face. “I mean, you don’t have anything to apologize for, it’s okay. I—wow, shit, um,” 

“It was a mistake, I know we’ve never discussed it—“ Louis gets cut off when Harry pulls him up his feet and kisses him again, wrapping his arms around his torso and squeezing each bulb of his ass in his large hands. “Huh?” 

“I love it,” Harry sighs, reaching behind him to turn the water fully off. “Fuck, say it again, please.” 

“Daddy?” Louis asks, biting his lip. “Wait, that’s kind of hot.” 

“Fuck,” Harry agrees, yanking the towel off the wall and wrapping Louis with it. “I need to have you.” 

“Oh, wow,” Louis chuckles, then bursts into a fit of giggles. “Uh, do you also want a towel? My floors are carpet and I can’t afford to have a puddle…”

“You’re hilarious,” Harry rolls his eyes, nuzzling their noses together. “Sassy and blunt, what am I going to do with you?” Louis can see his eyes glaze over, becoming shinier and more unfocused as they both do the work of ruffling each other’s hair dry and patting each other’s backs down. 

“Harry,” Louis inquires softly once they hit fresh air with the opening of the bathroom door, “I think I love you.”

Harry, without a moment of hesitation, grins at him dopily before leaping onto the bed buck-ass naked. “You _think_ you love me?” He beckons Louis forward, even moving the sheets out of the way to make it easier for him to jump into his arms. “Tell it to me with confidence, sugar.”

“Oh, god,” Louis gulps when he catches a glimpse of Harry’s hardening cock and decides to hide his face in his neck to assuage his embarrassment. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

“Well, me neither.”

“No, I mean the whole...being sexy thing. I haven’t really even thought about my appearance for a while.” Louis admits, feeling his cheeks burn. His whole face feels like he rubbed toothpaste on it. “And you’re still so...sexy.” 

Harry laughs, and Louis can hear his heart pick up the pace. “C’mon sugar, don’t deflect. Say it.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Harry sighs, facial expression contorting seriously before relaxing, letting the rest of his body speak for him. He starts moving Louis about, shifting him on his hands and knees and moving behind him. “Can we do it like this? I know you don’t prefer it.”

Louis pedals his knees into the mattress in thought, “Is there any particular reason?”

“I want to eat you out,” Harry leans down and kisses his lower back, trailing his lips down until Louis feels so bashful he has to drop his hips and bury his face into the pillow. “Is that a no?”

“I mean, sure, but,” Louis would be completely fine with God striking a lightning bolt into him right now. “I’ve never—well, no one’s done it before on me. With me—to me? I don’t know.” 

  
  


The blinds are slightly tilted open, so the sunset is hitting Louis’ body in waves, making him look like a surrealist painting. “We don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable.” Harry can’t help but wetten his lips staring at the swell of his ass, though. His words and his head know what the right thing is, but his dick is saying a completely different thing. Louis huffs into the pillow and kicks his legs about tumultuously. 

“But I...wanna,” He groans, the words muffled. He sounds frustrated with himself, and Harry can’t help but sympathize. “You know?”

“We can take it slow,” Harry runs his hands up and down Louis’ sides, reaching underneath to flick at his nipples teasingly. He’s perfect, a literal fucking vision. “Would you feel okay with choking me with your thighs?”

Louis moves the pillow from his face and gives him a look, “You’re into that?”

Harry’s mouth is watering, “Fuck yeah. I want to drown.” 

Louis rolls his eyes as he rolls his whole body over, splitting his knees right in front of Harry like he’s doing him a favor. Ugh, _yes._ “You’re so fucking dramatic, did you know that?” 

“Tell me more,” Harry bends down on his stomach and crawls forward, locking Louis’ thighs in the crooks of his arms. The backs of his legs are so soft, completely hairless, and Harry can’t even fathom how on earth that’s possible. His dick is also just sitting there, waiting for Harry to kiss it and run his tongue over Louis’ balls and make him shake… 

“You keep acting like you’d like it if I made you do shit,” Louis laughs, as though he’s trying to suspend his disbelief. “When you’re honestly a little bit of a control freak.” 

“Mhm,” Harry’s brain is on autopilot watching the muscles on Louis’ abdomen clench and unclench with every chuckle. 

“Like if I trapped you, like this,” Louis suddenly shuts his knees, forcing Harry to pull his arms out from being uncomfortably tangled, now just his head stuck in between two walls of plushy and warm thighs. “You’d like it. You like that?”

Harry’s voice comes out a lot higher and whinier than he’d like, “Ye-ah.” 

Louis snorts, “Holy shit.” 

Harry’s face is burning, “Don’t kinkshame me.” 

“Well then, get to work, bitch.” Louis shines down light as he stares Harry down, passively reaching down to grab at his hair and yank him about. “You better live up to the hype. If this doesn’t feel good, I’m going to kick you out of my apartment.” 

“Uh huh,” Harry pants, swallowing as his neck extends from Louis pulling on his hair so hard. “Without any clothes on?”

“Not even shoes,” Louis threatens, visibly getting amused by how hot and bothered Harry’s become. It would be embarrassing if it were _anyone_ else, but it’s Louis. Harry knows that he doesn’t mean it. He feels so fucking _safe._ “I love you, daddy.” 

Harry’s eyes roll back as he ducks down and licks a stripe up near the cleft of Louis’ ass. “Imma spread it, so don’t get surprised and kick me.” 

“Mmkay,” Louis snuggles into the bed, closing his eyes and smiling. “Go ahead.” 

“I love you,” Harry says before reaching down and biting his cheek. “You’re okay, sugar?” 

“Yeah,” Louis replies through his teeth, lifting his knees higher for better access, and Harry knows he’s in Heaven. “Oh, fuck—“ 

Harry presses kisses to Louis’ hole, flattening his tongue and licking up stripes with both hands digging their nails into his thighs. “You feel good, sugar.” His voice comes out much more gruff than he expected, but maybe that’s just part of the deal. “Smell like strawberries all over and it’s drivin’ me nuts.” 

Louis grips the sheets until they’re wrinkled and white, shivering a bit when Harry dives again, the both of them shivering from the sudden breeze that blows through the open window. It’s that moment Harry remembers his hair is wet, so maybe if he just tilts his head— 

  
  


“Angh,” Louis whines, wriggling from the chill of Harry’s hair on his thighs. “Daddy,” It just runs from his mouth, every obscenity he’s ever been told not to say, “Fucking love your mouth, your tongue, god.” 

When he regains enough composure to open his eyes and look down, he sees Harry with his eyes closed and tongue forward, completely blissed out in his rightful place in between his thighs. 

And god, Louis never thought in his entire life would he be so possessive. There is no way he’s ever letting Harry go again. “Harry, can you—“ 

“Mm mm,” Harry’s eyes snap open and glare at him. 

“Daddy,” Louis corrects, feeling wrecked already just from being made to say it again. “Can you touch me, please?” 

“I am touching you, sugar,” Harry grumbles against his hole, the vibrations sending jolts up his whole body. “Get specific.” 

“Can you lick me, like,” Louis doesn’t want to say it, and he hates Harry for making him spell it out. “My balls, or...please?” 

“Mm,” Harry grins, sucking a hickey on his perineum and popping off so aggressively Louis’ keens off the bed. “Okay, since you asked so nicely.” He shifts forward a bit and cocks his head to the side, kitten licking from the base of Louis’ balls to the tip of his dick, gently swirling his tongue around the head until Louis screams and tries to run away. 

“Harry!” Louis shrieks, feeling like he’s going to explode. “Oh, fuck—“ 

Before he can really move away, though, Harry tightens his grip of him and pushes him down against the mattress. He lowers his head down, knuckles white against his thighs, bobbing his head and sinking lower and lower until he’s got all of Louis’ cock in his throat. 

Louis takes one long look at the sight before completely releasing his soul from his body, gasping and coming right into Harry’s mouth. “Fuck!” 

“Yeah,” Harry coughs, swallowing and wiping the edges of his mouth with his thumb. “Taste good, too.” 

Once his back stops spasming and relaxes, Louis slumps against his bed with fierce pants lifting and lowering his chest. “Daddy?”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckles, clearing his throat. He crawls up to him, holding his chin to kiss him deeply. “What is it, sugarcane?”

“Please,” Louis spreads his legs wider, clutching Harry’s torso with them. He feels light and floaty, as if he’s been hanging upside for an hour. “I need you, really bad.”

Harry takes in a deep breath and moves his lips lower to Louis’ neck, making soft noises of satisfaction in his chest. “Gimme a minute,” He mumbles, shutting his eyes and resting his head right over Louis’ heart. They sigh and breathe together, Louis moving to tangle a hand in Harry’s hair. “This shit is amazing.”

Louis, a bit confused, giggles, “What is?”

“The way your heart jumps and jumps and it just doesn’t give up,” Harry sniffs, tickling Louis’ skin with his hair. “I’ll never get tired of it.” Harry sounds enamoured, Louis realizes in the thick of the moment. Lovesick, and it’s Louis who did that to him. 

“I can feel yours too,” He tries, but his voice comes out sounding broken, “Even when we hold hands like this, I can feel it through your fingers.”

“And it’s yours,” 

Wow, holy shit. 

“It is, huh?” Louis can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, sheepishly running his hands up and down Harry’s back because he just needs to do something with them. “Your heart’s mine?”

Harry looks up at him and nods, “I’m going to fuck you now, alright?”

Louis nods immediately. 

“Maybe even hold your neck a little bit. Kiss you nice and slow, until you can’t even remember your own name,” Harry’s saying it like it’s the sweetest thing in the entire world, “Then I’ll clean you up kinda rough, because we both know you’re into that, and in the morning…” He reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out a condom and lube, wrapping and slicking himself up. “...We’re gonna do it again.” 

Their lips meet, front teeth hitting each other’s and all the hands of the entire world trying to touch every bit of skin on the other person. It’s hilarious in retrospect; thinking about how Harry always runs his mouth like he’s a popular teen romance novelist but now it’s even more obvious because Louis’ processing it all this time. “You talk so much, you know that?” He cuts Harry off as he’s mumbling more words into Louis’ neck, gasping when Harry lines himself up and starts slapping his hole with his cock in response. “I like it, baby. Keep telling me how you love it,” Louis preens, wrapping his arms around Harry’s head and holding on for dear life as the blunt head starts pushing against him. 

Harry rubs his thumb over Louis' forearm and softly shushes him as he pushes in, the gape of his mouth slightly widening. Louis knows he wants to say something, but is trying to control himself, evident with his eyebrows furrowed tightly in concentration. "You're so gentle, baby. You're so good to me, you know?" Louis praises, watching Harry's eyes light up as he bottoms out. "So big, splittin' me open so well. Like you were made to be in there."

"I talk a lot, huh?" Harry giggles, collapsing onto him to nuzzle their noses together. "Mm, I can fall asleep like this,"

"Don't you dare," Louis warns, "The last time you did that I held my pee for like an hour, ugh." He squeaks when Harry thrusts into him suddenly, trying desperately to shut his legs but getting blocked by his lover's torso. He lets out a sharp exhale and kisses Harry's forehead. "You're so deep, I can literally feel you in-"

"Sugar, if you keep stirring me like this, I'm going to cum faster than a thirteen year old reading Playboy for the first time," Harry murmurs, leaving wet kisses all over Louis' chest and neck. "All I wanna do is do this, y'know?" He begins moving slowly, back and forth into Louis with their hands meshed together. Louis' legs moving from Harry's body moving, and Harry's free hand pressing down on Louis' stomach. "Imagine, doing it like this all the time, because we got nothing else to do or we're celebrating something big or I just remembered I love you, that kind of thing." 

Louis whimpers and nods, flexing his feet and clenching his toes. “Do you wanna flip me over?” He asks, trying to relax his chest and hold Harry even closer. “Come on, honey-baby. You’ve been trying to flip me over for months.” 

Harry raises his eyebrow and hums, “So, why am I allowed to now?” 

“Can I tell you afterwards?” Louis shyly hides his face. “I can give you a hint, but it’s a buzzkill.” 

Harry hums and nods, “I’ll take it.” He swiftly pulls out and turns Louis over, the both them laughing and giggling like teenagers. He lifts Louis’ hips up and they both gasp. “Your ass looks...unreal like this.” 

“Thank you, baby,” Louis looks back and sticks his tongue out. “Your abs look unreal always.” 

Harry pushes back in, this time gripping both of Louis’ cheeks and yanking him backwards. “Yes,” 

“Oh, fuck!” Louis yelps and collapses on his front, having not locked his elbows (which, in retrospect, is such a rookie mistake). 

“You okay?” Harry asks through gritted teeth, tightening his hold on Louis’ hips as he throws himself into him harder and harder. “Gorgeous, fucking gorgeous.” 

Harry’s so deep that Louis can feel him in his _stomach_ , the sound of skin slapping against each other filling the entire room. It’s preposterous, the noises he’s releasing into the air have so little correlation, any plausible connection, with the fact they smell like freaking strawberries, maybe some gardenia mixed in, an undertone of musk coming straight from their sweat glands and mixing as it runs off their bodies. 

Now he can hear his own heartbeat, picking up the pace every time Harry readjusts his sweaty grip on him, pinching and pulling and making sure Louis hasn’t got anywhere to go. His hair begins flopping into his eyes, so as he moves his arms to fix it, Harry does it for him, yanking all of his hair back. 

He keeps pulling until Louis’ on his knees, thighs trembling and hands weak, arching his back and Harry wraps a strong arm around Louis’ torso. “Fuck, you feel it?” Harry’s hand travels down to his tummy. “You feel me in there?” 

Louis’ eyes roll back in his head as he comes, clenching around Harry reflexively. He can’t even answer, mouth happening to be agape when Harry shoves in a few fingers down his throat. He doesn’t collapse though, Harry’s holding him. He can’t see anything, can’t see anything that’s going on, but, he feels safe. This is safe. 

“There you go,” Harry murmurs into his ear, smoothly rocking them through it. “You got it, sugar.” 

Louis wants to relay all these things right back to him, but he can’t, so he just moans around Harry’s knuckles, tasting the metal of his rings. Once he gets control over his tongue back, he begins swirling it around the digits and sucking loudly. 

“Jesus Christ,” Harry pulls his fingers out, much to Louis’ bewilderment. “Sugar, I need to—hold on—“ He grips onto Louis’ ass and begins to erratically rut into him, because that’s Harry’s thing, always letting his lover come first before following quickly after. It has the same effect every time, feeling shocked and then feeling like it’s about to become too much, and right before Louis can get it into his head to ask him to stop, Harry will come, as he does right now, while biting down onto him somewhere as though he’s illustrating the next piece of a puzzle on his skin. 

“Love you,” Harry coos, breathing harshly into Louis’ ear. “Fuck, lemme just,” He lowers the both of them until Louis’ snugly tucked under him with his softening cock still inside. “I just wanna stay like this.” 

“While that may be nice for you,” Louis interjects, “You are very heavy.” 

Harry laughs, a deep rumble in his chest resonating to Louis’ back. “Sorry.” He slowly pulls out and rolls off, sighing loudly. 

Louis turns his head to look at him, the vision this motherfucker is, with the little slivers of natural light hitting him like a cubist painting. “You’re so pretty.” 

Harry, still with his eyes closed, smiles shyly. “Thanks,” His eyelashes look like he put mascara on. “You’re also pretty. Tell me why you let me do that, now.”

  
  
  


“Oh,” Louis picks himself up and rolls onto his side. “Let you hit it from the back?” He asks, snickering through the words. 

“Yes,” 

“Because whenever Witt and I used to do it like that, it’d hurt.” 

Harry’s eyes snap open and yeah, his face is totally about to get stormy. “Yeah?” 

Louis sniffs and smiles like it’s nostalgic, thinking about these things. Harry can’t decide if that’s a good or a bad sign. “Yeah. Decided because of him I didn’t like it.” 

He can feel his eye twitching. “I can, I can go kill him right now—“ 

Louis cuts him off, “No, honey-baby, it’s quite alright. It’s one of those complicated things that take a lot more than a few sentences to explain. And honestly? Don’t really feel like I need to say the rest of them.” 

Harry relaxes, gulping and nodding, “I understand. I have a question, though.” 

“Lay it on me,” Louis intertwines their fingers. 

“When did you start posting on the subreddit?” Harry asks, kissing the back of Louis’ hand. They just can’t stop touching each other. 

“Hm,” Louis raises his eyebrows. “Well, it all started probably a little over a year ago, when Witt and I first moved in together.” 

“It always comes back to him, doesn’t it?” Harry seethes, but Louis quickly flicks his forehead. “Mmngh.” 

“I was really scared, it was my first time ever leaving my city. I hadn’t talked to Zayn yet, even though we were from the same neighborhood and I never thought I could, y’know? He was out here, making a life for himself, whereas I was struggling to catch up in the fuckin’ orchestra.” Louis breathes deeply. “Somewhere down the line, I found out about Reddit and how people could post whatever they want anonymously, so I started doing it. Soon enough, I was like an even more tragic Lizzie Bennet and I was talking about every fight, every time we had sex, every meal. It was crazy.” 

“Uh, yeah.” Flick. “Ow!” 

“That went on for the entirety of our relationship.” Louis continues. “And never was I ever scared of him finding out. Because the whole time I was doing it, it was almost like I wanted him to find out. To end it, so that I wouldn’t feel such an attachment, you know? I was such a pussy...and that sentiment kind of just flowed over when I met you, because I was so scared I was going to end up in the same situation.” 

Harry shakes his head adamantly, “You’re not a pussy, you’re not. That was very strong of you, and I’m glad that you had somewhere to say it for when you needed to.” 

“But it meant I didn’t trust you as much as I should’ve,” Louis whispers, “I’m sorry. Remember how you got so angry?” 

“I’m dramatic,” Harry reassures, “My room needed redecorating anyways. Duvet from Walmart needs replacing, for that matter.” He winces, but uses it as an opportunity to kiss Louis’ nose. 

Louis smiles and reaches for him, rubbing a thumb over his lips with his delicate left hand. The hand that’s been through so much. “Honey-baby, you make me feel so safe. If a robber ran in here right now, I still wouldn’t be scared.”

“You make me feel safe too,” Harry can feel himself choke up. “Being with you never makes any of my worries and insecurities disappear. But it makes me accept them, you know? Like it’s okay they exist,” Harry pulls Louis closer to hold him, “A whole beacon of reality sitting so…I don’t know, _politely,_ in a world that only makes sense when it’s being fake.” 

“Wow,” snorts Louis with narrowed eyes, “You’re the next Stephanie Meyer. We can start our own ‘Twilight’ series and never work again.” 

“We can,” replies Harry, kissing the top of Louis’ head and keeping his lips there. 

“I thought your parents were happy,” Louis suddenly says as he shifts them again just to draw pictures on Harry’s chest. “What happened?” 

Harry’s so in love with him, “Turns out they haven’t been happy for years. Acted like they were every time they saw me to “protect” me or some bullshit like that. What about you?” 

“Hm,” Louis contemplates before responding, “They split and then died when I was younger. But good people, the both of them. I will never say a wrong thing about either even after I’m dead.” 

“Then I won’t either,” Harry jokes, but the connotations of that statement hit them both hard in the chest. “Uh, yeah.” 

“Till you’re dead?” Louis makes an impressed face. “That’s some serious dedication. A real time commitment, that.” 

Harry can feel his face heat up, “Mhm,” He agrees, high pitched. 

Louis gives him a dead stare for a few more seconds before smirking. “I will never let you go.” 

“Even if you become part of the New York orchestra and I’m still in grad school?” 

“I will pay for it,” says Louis. 

“Even if I end up a professor at a college on the other side of the country and we have to move and you’ll never be in an orchestra again?” 

“In Los Angeles, I will charge one hundred and twenty bucks an hour per kid, per lesson.” Louis says without any hesitation in his voice. 

Harry’s trembles, “Even if I lose my shit and change careers completely?” 

Louis, with a straight face, says, “Even if it’s _acting._ Hey, that reminds me.” 

“Mhm,” 

“You always sound so unsure of yourself,” Louis scoffs, “When you’re so smart you could’ve gone to any other school? Why are you here, at Grayson?” 

“Okay, well, that’s a loaded question,” laughs Harry, blowing his own hair out of his face. “Uh...you ever heard about that Ivy League theory?” 

“Ivy League?” 

“The one where...if you only accept the best of the best students in the entire world, who will be the best of the best when they’re all together?” 

“Oh,” reacts Louis. 

Harry bites his lip, “I got into Princeton—don’t tell anyone—but I said no because I was really scared that if I went there, I’d…” 

“You’d…?” Louis tips Harry’s chin up when it falls. “What is it, honey?” 

“I’d get sad about being a failure or some shit and end up killing myself or something.” 

Louis’ face contorts into that of horror, “Harry,” 

“I’m okay,” Harry blinks rapidly as Louis begins to visibly panic. “Oh, sugar, I’m fine. I’m glad I didn’t go, is the caveat. Coming to Grayson was what was right.” 

“Harry,” Louis’ voice breaks, “What the hell, honey?” 

“I know, I’m sorry—“

“You have nothing to apologize for! Oh, stop it, you, I’m the one who asked!” Louis wipes his face with the blanket before saying sadly, “Harry Styles, in my world you are the best of the best, you hear? Absolutely remarkable.” Louis keeps going despite Harry covering his face, “You see, for most people it’s hard trying to be smart and good at the same time? At least where I’m from. You just gotta have drive, or else you won’t get out, and the smart kids I used to know chose that drive over their families and eventually what was important. You start chasing money, chasing security; running from the thought of ever having a hungry belly again, but you’re the first smartass I’ve met who really isn’t like that at all,” Louis giggles when Harry does, “Don’t you ever worry about being a failure around me. _Ever.”_

Harry’s face crumbles at that, jaw trembling. He presses his face with his hands and for the first time in what feels like a million years, he _sobs._

“Oh, shit.” Louis says, but he can’t control it, the tears streaming down his face. His chest feels like someone just lifted it from his body, the rest of his body has gone rigid just from the strength of his hiccups. “Baby, you okay?” 

  
  
  


“I’m going to buy you the most bestest sounding most expensive violin ever,” Harry whimpers, hyperventilating through his promise. Usually, Louis would never be so mean to such a lovable admission, but this time he just can’t help himself. 

“The most expensive violins in the world are over a million dollars.” 

Harry smacks his face into his sheets and wails. “Shit!” 

“No!” Louis coos, grabbing Harry and pulling him in for a wet and snotty kiss. “I was just playing, honey, I’m sorry.” 

Harry pouts and kisses him again. “I will write you multiple poetry books.” 

“Please don’t,” Louis begs, laughing out of happiness and trying his best to maintain his sanity. “Oh god, I’d die, I’d actually die, because you’re the kind of person who’d get lucky and get famous off of that shit.” 

“—Poetry about your ass,” 

“Exactly my point.” Louis uses a hand to push Harry’s hair backwards repeatedly. It must feel good, because Harry calms down from his fit of hysterics and stares right into his eyes. “I’m going to tell you something, purely for objective criticism, so don’t freak out.” 

“Shoot.” 

“Bradley, Diana, Lily, Lucas.” Louis says. 

“What?” 

“My grandchildren.” 

“Uh, I’m sorry, sugar, but those are such bland names, especially for this day and age.” 

“I know, but they’re names that kind of demand respect, right? Sounds like they grew up on the right side of the wall?” Louis asks, “By wall, I mean for instance the gated community not too far from here.”

Harry’s expression softens. “Sure.” Louis knows from this one word alone, Harry understands it. He gets it. He’ll even allow it if it ever comes down to it. 

“I love you,” Louis affirms out loud, holding Harry’s face in his hands. “I won’t ever go on Reddit ever again if you won’t.” 

Harry bursts out in laughter, “Oh yeah. Delete that shit off my phone right now.” 

  
  
  


After that, the conversation slowly dies as they both become sleepy from the exercise, holding each other's hands and tangling their legs together. For a while, they wait until the other's fully asleep by pretending they're asleep themselves, with closed eyes and waiting in silence, wondering. Memorizing how many seconds it takes for Louis' lungs to do their job, how many seconds it takes for Harry's nose to whistle slightly like there are bells in his body somewhere. Until the moment they both fall asleep, they ask themselves how they ended up here and where they'll end up in the future. 

They’re both still just kids, Louis' painfully reminded all the time. Frontal-lobe missing, perky-ass wearing, fucked-up kids with all the possibilities of the world coming for them. Including the one that states that even after all this, they still won’t work out. 

Perhaps it’s okay not to care though, for this one second, Harry hopes. In a fleeting moment of time, this could be theirs, this feeling of satiety so warm and refreshing it feels like drinking soup on a winter’s day. 

Both hearts beating, refusing to lose the race against the other, refusing to give up at all. This is theirs. Something that no one else will ever know. 

  
  


  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hold up...did zayn ever get his thai food? jsjsjsjs oopsie 
> 
> hi! I'm new to all of this sorta (it's a long story) and if you're interested in getting in touch with me, here's my Tumblr!  
> [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/rainbowsedge)  
> my twitter  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/rxinbowsedge)  
> see you later, peeps  
> jam


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